


Heart and Soul

by st_mick



Category: Torchwood
Genre: AU, And angsty, Because apparently that's how I roll, Except it will most likely be very fluffy, Inspired by Last Christmas, M/M, No Cyberwoman, No idea where this is going
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-18 00:54:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 54,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21519253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: When Torchwood Tower fell, the battle caused a very great deal of toxic dust to be dispersed within the structure.  Any survivors who had been above the twentieth floor that day were fated to face dire medical consequences.  The conversion rooms were on floor thirty.  Lisa was dead when Ianto found her.  It's now a year later, and he is about to join her when an organ donor shows impeccable timing.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 304
Kudos: 204





	1. Chapter 1

Dr. Thomas Rasmussen dropped his glasses onto his desk and rubbed his eyes. There had been no updates to the donor registry in the last hour. And no potential matches in days. He sighed. It was hell to think that someone would have to die to prevent the death of his patient, but people died every day. What was frustrating was how many of those not long for the world neglected to fill out their organ donor paperwork.

Rasmussen gave a huff and refreshed the screen, knowing it was likely a wasted effort. His patient was hanging on by a thread. His lungs had been ruined by that travesty in London, the day Canary Wharf fell. In the destruction of the building, the toxic dust had caused pulmonary issues in an alarming number of the twenty-seven survivors. A year later, there were only fifteen left.

Soon to be fourteen, he thought with frustration. Such a waste! Survivors had gone to the top of the transplant list as soon as they were added. Some might think that unfair, but the particular strain of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease seen in Canary Wharf survivors claimed its victims more quickly than any other. The need truly was the most dire for these patients.

Rasmussen had been assigned to the survivors, as soon as the pattern of COPD-related organ failure was spotted. Of the twenty-seven, eight had committed suicide. Ten seemed to have suffered no lasting ill effects (physically, at any rate – the lot of them had severe PTSD), and nine had COPD.

Three had died before the pattern had been recognized. Another died when her body rejected her new lungs. Four were less severe cases that were being managed and would not likely require more drastic intervention.

That left Ianto Jones. Barely alive, but still fighting. His symptoms had been the most severe of the day’s survivors, yet he was the one still hanging on. Every breath was a battle. He had been receiving palliative care for a little over two weeks, now. Morphine was helping with the pain, but he was suffering. Rasmussen was certain Jones would be gone within the next twelve hours, and if there was to be no donor, he could only hope for the end of the young man’s suffering.

“Doctor!”

He jumped as an emergency room nurse burst into his office. “What is it, Emily?” he snapped, startled. He quickly apologized.

“Oh, never mind that, we have a donor!” she exclaimed.

“What?” he jumped from his desk. “Where? I’ve been looking through the registry for the past hour, with no luck.”

“RTA victim was just brought in. No next of kin, donor paperwork in order, and he looks to be a match, based on some preliminary tests on blood and tissue samples.”

“Brought in? You mean here?” he looked at her in disbelief.

“Yes, here.” She shook her head. “It was a hit and run, near the Millennium Centre. Damn near took his head off, but his chest was undamaged.” She made a face. “I don’t think there will be any other viable organs, but his heart and lungs are fine.”

“Even after an impact like that?” he shook his head, doubtful.

She tossed a set of x-rays up on the lightbox on his office wall, and he stared for several minutes. Perhaps the gods he no longer believed in had developed a soft spot for Jones, all of a sudden. He praised the day he started making nice with the A&E nurses. Emily just cut a good three hours out of the process.

“Well done, Emily. You may have just saved a life.” He opened the office door and called out to his assistant. “Dylan! Please see that this A&E patient,” he paused and looked at Emily.

“James Harper,” she said.

“See that James Harper is prepped for surgery immediately, and call in the team. I’ll go verify the samples and put him in the registry, but Jones is at the top of the list, and he’s _here_.”

They all separated to take care of their tasks, energized by the opportunity to save a man’s life, that the death of another might have a bit more meaning.

***

When Dr. Rasmussen entered the hospital room an hour later, he found Rhiannon Davies helping her brother do one of the breathing exercises that sometimes helped to ease the symptoms. “Ianto, I have news,” he said.

“Don’t tell me,” Ianto wheezed. “I’m going to wake up in the morning and find Lisa in the shower, and this will all have been just a dream.”

Rasmussen chuckled. If Jones was still snarking, then he still had a bit of fight left in him. This was good. He’d need it for the road ahead. “Nothing so operatic, I’m afraid. But in the eleventh hour, we have found a viable candidate.”

Rhiannon clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Doctor,” she cried out, throwing her arms around the startled physician.

“Rhi, let the man go. If you injure him, he can’t operate,” Ianto gave a weak smirk.

The doctor noted that the man’s pallor had turned an ominous shade of grey, and he was struggling for breath after each sentence he spoke. He couldn’t even lift his head from the pillow. But his eyes, though fading, still held a spark of defiance. It always surprised Rasmussen that a man so angry with the world was determined to survive, perhaps just to spite it.

Not that he didn’t have a damned fine reason to be angry with a world that had loosed such ridiculous aliens (really?) on itself. Jones had lost a great deal, that day. Most of his friends, his flatmate, his fiancé, and his health. But perhaps now Rasmussen could help with the latter.

“Do you want to know about the man?” he asked.

“Are we allowed?” Ianto replied with a question of his own.

“There was a release with the paperwork. James Harper, age thirty-seven. Victim of a hit-and-run accident near the Millennium Centre earlier this evening. They are harvesting his organs, now, though I’m afraid it looks as though only his heart and lungs will be viable.”

“You mean he’s here?” Rhiannon’s eyes grew wide.

Rasmussen nodded.

Ianto shuddered. “I wish there were another term for it, besides ‘harvesting’.” He looked at the doctor. “And his family?”

“No next of kin,” the doctor shook his head, then got back on track. “We have discussed the procedure in great detail, already. Do you have any questions?”

“I still don’t understand why you have to take my heart,” Ianto was still uneasy with the idea of losing it.

“Ianto, he’s explained it every time we’ve talked about it. There are fewer connections to make, if they transplant them as a group. Three, as opposed to four or five. Less risk,” Rhiannon rubbed his arm comfortingly even as she chastised him.

“And your heart is healthy. We’ve already found a viable match, so you can donate it,” the doctor added. It was interesting to see which things caused his patients anxiety. This was surprising to him, but given that Jones had taken just about everything else in stride, he was almost relieved that _something_ was giving the young man pause.

Ianto nodded wearily. He knew he was dying, and very soon. He had been trying to make peace with that, even as the doctor had entered the room. And he knew he needed – hell, he _wanted_ – this transplant. So he supposed he should stop bleating about it, but it was a disconcerting thought, losing his heart. He knew it wasn’t his physical heart, not really, that was the source of his love and courage and… well, pretty much everything that made him, _him_. It was more metaphorical, really. And he wasn’t losing _that_.

But still…

“Will,” he cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “Will I still be me, after?”

Rasmussen reached out and grasped Ianto’s shoulder. “Of course you will, Ianto. You are far more than the sum of your parts.”

“Yes, but you’re about to change the equation, aren’t you?”

Rasmussen had no response to that.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I just saw "Last Christmas", and it was a really good movie. (Emma Thompson is a genius. That is all.) But it got me thinking about our Jack and Ianto. Jack, who could survive donating vital organs, and Ianto, who could easily have needed them.
> 
> Came home and cranked this out.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Toshiko looked up from the complex set of calculations she was working on when an emergency notification came through. “Oh, no,” she muttered, her eyes widening as she read the alert. “Oh, no, no, no, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Suzie asked, putting down the artifact she’d been scrutinizing and making her way over to Tosh’s desk.

“Alert from University Hospital,” Tosh’s fingers flew across her keyboard, searching for information. “James Harper.”

“Damn, they must have made him,” Suzie muttered. “Is he all right?”

“No,” Tosh sat back, stunned. “Dead on arrival. Says here it was a hit and run on Stuart Street. Owen!” she called out to their medic.

“He must have been trying to get back here,” Suzie started reading over Tosh’s shoulder. “What’s that?” she pointed to a notation on the file.

“You bellowed?” Owen crabbed as he climbed up from the med bay.

“Jack’s been killed.”

“What, again?”

“Oh, shove it, Owen,” Suzie huffed.

“What, he gets his throat torn out by a Weevil that night. That was just a couple of weeks after Canary Wharf – remember? And _that’s_ how we find out he can’t stay dead. Because, you know, it would have actually made _sense_ for him to warn us about that.”

“Give it a rest, already,” Suzie grumbled. “We know now.”

“All I’m saying is, if one of us had jumped in front of a bullet for him, we’d feel right stupid for it, about now.”

“Like you’d jump in front of a bullet for anyone,” Suzie rejoined. “You wouldn’t cross the street for your own mother.”

“Damned straight,” Owen grinned unkindly.

“If you two are done,” Tosh snapped, “Owen, you need to get over there.”

“Why?” Owen finally grew serious.

“I’m trying to find his records,” she frowned. “They haven’t put him in the morgue, yet.”

“Maybe he revived?” Suzie suggested.

Tosh shook her head. “No, he’s still in the system.”

“It must have been pretty bad, if he hasn’t revived, yet,” Suzie frowned.

“Oh, God!” Tosh cried out. “He’s in surgery!”

“So he’s not dead, then?”

Tosh had a hand over her mouth. “They’re harvesting his organs.”

“Call them. Right now. Tell them to stop the surgery. I’ll be there in ten,” Owen ordered.

“Owen,” Tosh caught his arm. “It’s too late. There’s already a report. Heart, lungs, and kidneys were the only viable organs for transplantation.” She frowned. “The report says that his legs and head were damaged by the collision, and the way he landed,” she winced, “impaled on exposed rebar. Damaged the liver and pancreas. Blunt trauma to the bowel.” She kept reading. “The lungs were slightly bruised, even, but not severely enough to render them unusable.”

“How the hell did Jack’s cover identity get on the list?” Suzie asked. “Tosh, I know you wouldn’t have let that happen, given Jack’s… condition. It’s just too risky. We don’t know what it will do, how the recipient would react.”

Tosh was almost in tears. “I have it here,” she pulled up the file containing all of the paperwork involved in creating the identity for James Harper. “Look. I specifically marked the opt-out paperwork.”

“Then how…” Suzie looked at the screen. “The record was definitely altered, because there’s even a notation allowing organ recipients to know his name and other vital information.”

“Even if Jack made himself a donor, he wouldn’t have done that,” Tosh frowned again. “I’ll do some digging to see how and when the record was changed. You two go see if you can claim the remains. I can only imagine it might take a while for him to revive now, without…” she shuddered. “How the hell did this happen?”

***

When Jack revived, he found himself in one of the barracks quarters near the med bay that had been converted to a medical room. Suzie gave him a pat on the shoulder, then called Owen and Tosh in as he got his bearings.

“What happened?” Jack asked, rubbing his chest. He felt strange. “They ran me down as I was trying to get back to the hub with the data key I took.” He closed his eyes and lay back. This was a more brutal recovery than he was used to. Certainly more severe than just being hit by a car.

“Okay, so don’t panic,” Owen said, which ironically caused a mild sense of dread to rise in Jack’s chest. “You were taken to hospital. Dead on arrival, but…” he looked at Toshiko.

“Your medical records were altered,” Tosh said, hoping it might be better, coming from her. “I’m looking into how, but your organ donor paperwork was in order.”

“What?” Jack sat up fast, then clasped his head, feeling woozy. “Please tell me there aren’t half a dozen people out there now, who may or may not be affected by whatever this curse is.” That would explain why he felt so strange. He’d had to regrow his internal organs.

“Not half a dozen, no,” Suzie said, grasping his shoulder to steady him.

“They did a hell of a lot of damage when they ran you over. The only organs viable for transplant were the heart, lungs, and kidneys,” Owen explained.

“And from what I can tell, one person got your heart and lungs, and two others got the kidneys,” Tosh said.

“From what you can tell…” Jack frowned. “You mean you can’t find out?”

“Something odd is going on,” Tosh shrugged. “I’ll track it down, but Mainframe is acting strangely.”

Jack frowned. “What do you mean?”

Tosh sighed. “Well, she held the alert when you were admitted to hospital. I didn’t get it until after the surgery that… you know…”

“Harvested my organs?” Jack provided, giving a shudder. The word ‘harvest’ creeped him out, in this context.

She nodded. “It was like she waited until it was too late, to give us the alert. But we did get it in time to get you out, once they… finished.”

Jack frowned. Every now and then, their resident alien computer acted of her own accord, but never to anyone’s detriment. He’d have to see if she’d tell him what was going on.

“How did my record get altered?” he asked. “And who received my organs?”

“I’ve got the names of the kidney recipients, but,” Tosh gave a frustrated huff, “every time I come close to finding out who got your heart and lungs, Mainframe blocks me. I _can_ tell that your record was changed as soon as I created it. I know I didn’t change it, and I can’t see how anyone outside of Mainframe could have. But now that you’re awake, Owen can go to University Hospital and get the name of the recipient, though it could be anyone, anywhere in the country.

“Can’t you just look at the transplant list, see who was at the top and dropped off overnight?” Jack asked.

“I tried that first, but Mainframe is returning incomplete information.”

“Try bypassing Mainframe. Go off site and do some digging using a clean computer. I’ll have a little chat with our friend, make sure she hasn’t been compromised, somehow.”

“What about the op?” Suzie asked.

“Were you able to grab my effects?” Jack asked. At her nod, he said, “I put the data key in the lining of the jacket I was wearing. Hopefully they didn’t stop to look for it.”

Suzie nodded and moved off to search for the key, finding it within minutes. Jack drank some juice that Owen offered, trying to let his system settle after the difficult revival. He was worried that whoever had received his organs would now have this… issue. He felt sick at the idea, actually.

And what to do with the person? A lifetime of surveillance was likely in store for them, which might be a very long time. He really didn’t know what it might mean. Hell, he had no clue why _he_ was the way he was. And now he had to worry about someone else? He shook his head and got up, dressing in the clothes that his team had left for him. He still felt weak, but he made his way up to his office, where he logged in to the internal network and opened a chat box with Mainframe.

The tech had fallen through the rift about a decade ago. It was right about the time that Jack had felt a shiver, of sorts, as though time had ripped open and stitched itself back together again. But it was faint. Like a dream, or a shadow. Jack had theorized that an alternate timeline had blinked out, at that point, and the shiver was time healing itself.

Within a few days, a sort of obelisk came through the rift. Jack had always associated the two events in his mind, though they were utterly unrelated. Well, no relation could be proved, at any rate – mostly because he was the only one who had felt the shiver, nor did he have any idea what it actually was.

In any event, the obelisk was some sort of data core. Astonishingly sophisticated circuitry surrounded by some sort of malleable substance that resembled a meteorite. Partly metal, partly stone, and retractable, it could camouflage its appearance. She could either look like a stone column – a meteoric obelisk – or like a hunk of rock, like a modest standing stone.

When she came through, Jack had sensed that she was female. He also detected an astounding intelligence and had a strong impression of mischief. It had taken the boffins at One a bit of time to realize what she was and cart her off to London, but they eventually came up with a way to interface with her.

Only a handful of those in the archives had the intelligence, psychic aptitude, and mental fortitude to establish the interface. Their names had not been recorded anywhere that Tosh could find, and Mainframe was not forthcoming as to their identities, but it was assumed that they had all died that day.

During the battle, she had disguised herself as a stone and powered down so she could not be detected. Once it was all over, she came back online, just enough to ping Toshiko’s PDA as the Torchwood Three team scoured the wreckage. They brought her back to Cardiff, and it took four months for her to show herself as the obelisk rather than the standing stone.

Jack was fairly certain her name was not ‘Mainframe’, but every time he asked she demurred, saying that she only shared her name with certain people, and only at the appropriate time. He could sense that she was mourning for those with whom she had been able to interface, but she had not offered to connect with any of the Cardiff team in a similar manner. In fact, when he had suggested it, she stopped speaking to him for several days.

So chatting on the hub’s intranet was their method of communicating with her, though she did occasionally use other programs to let them all know that she was paying attention to the goings on around her. Jack believed she was sentient, but had no proof beyond the sense of those emotions from her and the occasional slip from computer-speak into something a bit more conversational.

He began typing. **Did you change my organ donor status?**

_Affirmative._

**WHY???** Jack found that he was not above using shouty caps at the computer.

_To save a life._

**Whose life?**

_You’ll find out._

**Why are you blocking our inquiries?**

_It’s not time, yet._

Jack blinked. **Time for what?**

_Spoilers…_

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... circling back and realizing that since I live in my head, I do know what's going on, but it may not be quite so obvious to folks who are fortunate enough not to have that glimpse into my brain. :P
> 
> Here goes... Because Ianto didn't show up in the park to help Jack with the weevil a couple of weeks after Canary Wharf, Jack died, and the team found out he can't stay dead. Can you just picture Owen's face? It's a picture, I can tell you.
> 
> Oh, and the shiver in time that Jack experienced, sometime around 1996... That was Big Bang 2. Not sure that it's relevant, but just wanted to point that out, in case it wasn't clear. And in case it becomes relevant, later. :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

It had been almost a year since Jack’s involuntary organ donation. Owen had been able to find the recipients of the two kidneys, but Mainframe had scrambled some data at the source, and the recipient of the heart and lungs was still unknown. Even interviewing Dr. Rasmussen, the head of the transplant team, had yielded no further information.

Sadly, the recipient of one kidney had rejected the organ almost immediately. She was put back on the transplant list, but did not survive long enough to receive another. The second kidney recipient seemed to be in chronic rejection. He was back on the transplant list, as well.

No amount of sweet-talking, bribing, cajoling, or even threatening could convince Mainframe to offer up the name of the third recipient. She’d actually changed back to a standing stone in a strop and stayed that way for six weeks. But Jack suspected that she knew who it was, and he had a feeling that she was watching over that person.

She had taken to inserting herself into ‘conversations’ (usually via typing in bright colors in a flamboyant font as one of the team members was filling out a report), explaining that she would never betray the team. After all, she had not been the one to kill Jack. She had merely used his death as an opportunity to help someone who desperately needed it.

They had successfully concluded the operation in question, resulting in the arrest of the culprits who had killed Jack. They were now serving time in a UNIT prison for alien trafficking.

Mainframe had even explained to Jack that what she had done was meant to be, confirming his suspicion that she was from the future. But when pressed, she would give no further information. Jack still circled back to the conversation, even after so many months, though he halfway hoped that none of his organs had been viable, after all. It was a terrible thought, but he was relieved that the kidneys had not healed themselves (or their recipients), and that there were no indications of the organs extending any lives unnaturally.

He could only hope that the recipient of the heart and lungs remained completely normal and mortal, as well.

***

Jack was leaving the Tourist Office one afternoon when a handsome young man called out to him. “Captain Harkness---“

Jack was intrigued. Not only because the man only missed gorgeous by a few pounds and a few nights’ sleep (he was a bit on the skinny side, and dark circles beneath his eyes betrayed more than a few sleepless nights). Still…

“And you are?” Jack’s flirty smile hid his suspicious concern that this young man knew his name.

“Jones. Ianto Jones,” the younger man winced at the sound of the introduction. Then, with a sheepish smile, he added, “I worked for Torchwood One.”

“Ah. And you knew to be here because…”

Ianto huffed. “I worked in the Archives. That I know the location of the hub is the least of your worries.”

“Oh, really?” Jack crossed his arms over his chest. He was fairly certain that was meant as snark, but it almost sounded threatening.

“Oh, please,” now Jones rolled his eyes. “It’s been two years. If I was going to cause trouble, don’t you think I’d have got on with it, by now?”

Jack couldn’t help the smile forming on his lips. Cheeky kid had balls, anyway. “Maybe it’s a part of your grand plan.”

“My grand plan to destroy the only line of defense between the planet and a rift in time and space?” He nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“What do you want?” Jack had an appointment with the Lord Mayor, and it would be best if he wasn’t late. Again.

“A job.”

Jack blinked. “You’re out. With your memories intact, no less. Don’t think that escaped my notice. Why the hell would you want back in?”

Ianto shrugged. “I miss archiving.” He looked out over the water. “Have a job in the museum now, but it’s not the same.”

“We don’t have any openings,” Jack said, and walked away.

“By the way… Love the coat.”

Jack smirked but kept walking.

***

He shouldn’t have been surprised to see Ianto again the next morning. With a mug of bliss, no less. Honestly, if coffee were sex, this would have been a mind-blowing shag that left you sticky and stupid, drooling and drowsy in a post-coital haze of sore muscles and overloaded endorphins. It was with great reluctance that Jack handed the mug back after only the one sip.

“I want to work for you.”

Jack walked away, forcing Ianto to follow as he recited what he’d found when he looked into Ianto’s background. Mainframe had been stingy with the details of Ianto’s job at One, but it didn’t matter. “Sorry. No vacancies.”

“Let me prove myself to you.”

“No.”

Ianto stepped ahead of Jack and stopped him with a hand on his chest. “I saw what they did at Canary Wharf. What am I supposed to do with those memories?”

“You are not my responsibility.” Jack drew Ianto’s hand away and began walking again.

Ianto followed again. “None of us are. You’re pretty much all that’s left of Torchwood, but I’d bet you don’t even know how many survivors are left.”

“You think _that_ will get you a job?”

“How many, then? C’mon. You’re the head of the Torchwood Institute, now. If we’re not your responsibility, then whose?”

Jack rounded on Ianto and got in his face, jabbing him in the chest. “Don’t. Care. Not. Mine.”

Ianto hissed and backed away from Jack’s jabbing. It didn’t hurt, but he hated for anything or anyone to touch his scar, and Jack seemed to have unerring aim.

Actually, it did hurt, just not physically.

Jack noticed the recoil and saw the pale complexion go paler. “You all right?”

“I suppose you think we eleven were the ones to influence Hartman?” Ianto asked, becoming angry for the first time in a very long time. It felt good, actually.

“Eleven,” Jack frowned. “I thought it was twenty-something.”

“Twenty- _seven_ ,” Ianto hissed.

“Well which is it?” Jack smirked.

“Twenty-seven survived the day,” Ianto replied, his lip curling in disgust. “But only eleven have survived surviving.”

It was Jack’s turn to pale. But he held his ground. “We’re not hiring.” He turned to walk away.

“Same time tomorrow, then.” Ianto packed away the hurt and anger, keeping his eye on the prize.

“There is no job for you here, and there never will be,” Jack kept walking.

“I really like that coat.”

Jack smiled and shook his head, but did not turn around.

***

Jack had just threatened to get in the SUV and run Ianto Jones over when he was brought up short by the last eleven words he ever expected to hear.

“So you’re not going to help me catch this pterodactyl, then?”

By the time it was all over, Jack had confessed to having 51st century pheromones, they’d almost kissed (and wasn’t that spark damned _intriguing_?), and he’d offered the younger man a job.

“Like the suit, by the way.”

Ianto kept walking.

***

Ianto was confused. And sore. Catching a man falling from a fairly great height and landing on a concrete floor is not good for a body. He stepped from the shower, catching sight of the scar down the center of his chest, from just below the clavicle to the bottom of the ribcage. His abdomen showed six roundish scars from the chest tubes. Hoses, more like. He turned and looked at the bruises blossoming on his back and arse.

He shook his head. They’d heal. Everything else had. Better than Dr. Rasmussen could have hoped. Ianto was still on immuno-suppressants – would be for the rest of his life, according to the doctor, though he was frowning at Ianto's latest test results when he said that. Ianto had the impression that his body had done the opposite of rejecting the organs.

The surgery had been a success, and though a long, painful journey, the recovery had been smoother than anyone could have hoped. The heart and lungs seemed to have healed from the trauma, and Ianto’s body followed suit.

The only hitch was how _wrong_ it all felt.

Ianto shook his head again and focused on getting ready for work. The dreams had become more intense, and he could no longer ignore the song he could hear in his mind whenever he was at rest. She was calling to him, and he could not resist. She was his friend, after all. And she seemed sad. And lonely.

He certainly knew how that felt.

He had bought the flat about six months after the surgery, as soon as he was back on his feet. Rhiannon had been disappointed, but she understood that he needed his independence. But in his bid to escape her mothering (much as he loved her and appreciated her support, he needed space to breathe, now that he could, again), he had forgotten that he had lost everyone that day.

So he joined his sister and her family for Sunday lunch, but other than that, he had no friends. They’d all died. The other survivors kept in touch, but Torchwood One had been a large organization. The twenty-seven survivors had not really known one another. That had changed, of course, but it wasn’t the same as having proper mates to go out and have fun with.

Dr. Rasmussen could tell Ianto was not taking the best care of himself. He repeatedly admonished Ianto to eat properly, and sleep, and lay off the booze. And Ianto tried. Really he did. But he wasn’t hungry. And he couldn’t sleep. And… well.

The alcohol helped him to forget how wrong he felt, now. As mad as it sounded, he missed his heart. He felt all wrong, inside. Like he wasn’t _him_ anymore. And no one understood. He’d reached out to the recipient of his heart, a forty year-old housewife in Swansea. He kept in touch, checking in regularly. He wasn’t certain why.

He felt completely alone. He’d tried going out on the pull a few times, and had even gotten laid. But it only made him miss Lisa, and he hadn’t tried it more than the once. It had left him so low that he’d almost drunk himself to death, just to numb the pain and emptiness, inside.

It was the following night that he’d begun to hear her, singing as she always had. The others always told him he was crazy. She hadn’t sung for them. When he asked, she laughingly told him that she only sang to those who _weren’t_ self-important prats. It was sort of their little secret. Lisa had been jealous until he’d reminded her that it was a bit outrageous to be jealous of a computer, even if it was a sentient alien obelisk. She’d laughed along with him, but was occasionally a bit put out by the rapport he had with the being everyone else called Mainframe.

He was going to see her, today. He’d have to tell Jack that he was one of those who could interface with her. He wondered if that would get him promoted or locked up. Jack seemed more reasonable than Yvonne Hartman, but he well knew it could still go either way. Though he was fairly certain that in Jack’s place, Yvonne would have run him over the night before, pterodactyl or no.

And what the hell had that been, after he’d caught Jack and the older man had rolled them out of the way of the falling creature? There for a moment, he’d thought Jack was going to kiss him. And for the life of him, Ianto could not tell what was more disconcerting – the spark between them, or the disappointment he’d felt when the kiss didn’t happen.

He’d never considered men before, but there was something about Captain Jack Harkness that seemed to call to him, to calm him. God, his scent alone was enough to just get drunk on and drift away in a cloud of blissful abandon.

He snapped out of his reverie and finished dressing, then went to the kitchen, where he brewed coffee and ate a slice of toast with raspberry jam. He packed a backpack with trainers, track pants, t-shirt, socks, and a hoodie, in case he decided to get some exercise later. He also packed a bag of his best beans, his spare grinder, and an egg salad sandwich for his lunch. After adding a few other snacks and a couple of bottles of water, he left for his first day of work at Torchwood Three.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a bridge, but I needed to get Ianto into Torchwood Three. I've tweaked timelines, so season one will unfold from here, with the notable exception of "Cyberwoman".
> 
> First day is up next...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> Mainframe speaks in _italics_.  
> Jack types to Mainframe in **bold**.

Jack met Ianto in the Tourist Centre. He’d made the younger man wait for a quarter hour, to see what he’d do. Ianto surprised him by placing his backpack near the secret door, going round the counter, and searching out cleaning supplies. He scrubbed down the counter and dusted the entirety of the space as Jack watched, transfixed.

Finally shaking himself out of the staring, he went to meet their newest recruit. Who happened to have seniority over everyone else there, besides Jack himself. And would be the youngest member of the team. Jack vaguely wondered what he was going to do with Ianto. Though a butler would be nice, he couldn’t really justify the salary. Maybe he could whip the kid into shape as another field agent. And he’d said something about the archives. Jack shuddered. He was almost ashamed to allow a proper archivist to see the state of the Torchwood Three archives.

As he reached the tourist office, Jack was struck by the gentle smile that greeted him as Ianto turned from dusting the rack of postcards to greet him. “Good morning, Sir.”

“Good morning,” Jack replied with his own smile. Seemed the younger man’s nerves had settled, a bit. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll give you the tour, and we’ll get some of the first day things out of the way.”

It wasn’t a surprise, really. Twenty-first century mores, and all that. People thought they were one thing or the other, with no idea that there was a whole spectrum. It’s not normally “either” gay or straight, but to what degree of either one leaned. They were finally catching on, but sweet goddess, it’d been a long century and a half, waiting for it to happen.

At least Ianto didn’t seem too rattled, having had the night to let it sink in. He’d reacted to Jack, and vice versa, but Jack could tell it was the first time the younger man had ever felt any sort of attraction to another man. It would be fun to explore, if Ianto proved open-minded enough.

As the cog wheel door rolled back, he allowed Ianto to take it all in. He was a bit house-proud, so when Ianto seemed to frown with a critical eye, he was disappointed. “I guess we weren’t actually kidding about the butler bit,” Ianto said, his voice neutral. And Jack looked beyond the cool underground lair and saw the mess. He was relieved when the younger man smiled as he caught sight of the pterodactyl flying around the upper reaches.

Jack remembered that Ianto had asked about the archives, but had downgraded the offer to butler, the more Jack fought him. Which made Jack wonder, now that he’d let a complete stranger into his hub, why Ianto was so desperate for a job. Was there an artifact that he was after? What was his end game, here?

It went back to making no sense, and Jack felt a bite of disappointment. He’d gone and made a decision with the wrong bit of anatomy, again. “Bit of everything, actually,” he finally said when Ianto raised an eyebrow at the scowl that had grown on his face. “Help keep things orderly, food for the team, logistics, some other things. We’ll discuss your suitability for fieldwork,” he paused when Ianto seemed to blink at the idea. Interesting. “And you’ll have to be thoroughly vetted before we even think about letting you near the archives.”

“Of course, Sir.”

The others arrived, and after introductions, Jack showed Ianto where the bathrooms, locker room, kitchenette, and conference room were. He was reluctant to take Ianto down into the archives, and was trying to think of a valid reason, when Toshiko powered everything up, waking Mainframe from her snooze.

Within moments, Jack was stepping away from Ianto as the younger man’s face lit up. “You’re here!” Ianto said to the air, looking around and smiling broadly.

Then Jack heard _singing_.

“Jack, what the hell is that?” Owen asked, a finger digging in his ear. Suzie was looking up, having spotted the pterodactyl, and Tosh had her eyes closed. They could all hear it.

Mainframe was singing.

“Where are you?” Ianto called out stepping tentatively towards the center of the hub.

Jack reached for his gun, but realized he hadn’t put it on, yet.

_Come find me, Crumpet!_

Crumpet? Jack raised an eyebrow, but Ianto seemed used to the pet name. He was looking around, trying to figure out where they might have put her. When he spotted the obelisk, he rushed towards it, Jack following closely, unsure whether this was a threat, or not.

“How do you know Mainframe?” he asked suspiciously.

“That’s not her name,” Ianto replied, smiling as he stood before the obelisk.

Well, that was Jack told. He crossed his arms over his chest as the others approached. He was glad to see that Suzie had a weapon in her hand. Owen looked wary, but Toshiko looked curious. And a bit envious.

“She told you her name?” she asked.

Ianto nodded and reached out, touching the stone. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered. “I thought you were gone, until…” he caught himself. “I’m glad you’re okay. You _are_ okay, aren’t you?”

_Yes. Better, now you’re here. Took me ages to find you, though. I’m sorry for that._

“Lisa’s gone,” he blurted. “And everyone else. I lost everyone, that day, including you. Everyone is gone. I mean, there are still eleven survivors.” He caught himself and smiled. “Twelve, actually. Including your beautiful self.” Ianto stopped speaking, realizing that the others were listening.

_I’m sorry, Crumpet. You seem better now, though._

“Took two years, and lost… even more. But yeah.” He swiped at his eyes, then sniffed. “You’re going to tire yourself out, talking like this.”

_I don’t want them to shoot you._

He chuckled and turned back to Jack and the others. “I did tell you I worked in the archives.”

“And Mainframe has been reaching out to you, pulling you back in,” Jack realized.

Ianto shrugged. “I’m the only one left who can interface with her.”

Jack nodded. “She’s sentient, then.”

“Of course she is,” Ianto rounded on him, scowling.

“Easy, Tiger. Not like she’s really let us know that, for sure.” He looked from Ianto to the obelisk and back again. “Care to introduce us?”

_You can call me Mainframe, for now._

Ianto smiled, but it softened when he saw Jack’s disappointment. “Well maybe you can get her to explain some things, sometime,” Jack said. “For now, we need to get your medical clearance and other paperwork.”

“My medical…” Ianto blinked. “I thought you said you did a background check.”

Jack gestured at the obelisk. “Ask your friend. She’s been running interference since the first day you met me outside the Tourist Office.”

Ianto looked at the obelisk. “What are you up to?” he asked.

There was no reply, but Ianto decided that the obelisk looked decidedly smug.

He sighed. “Well, there are some things you’ll need to know. I’ll likely never be cleared for fieldwork. But I can make myself useful.” He looked around the hub, and Jack frowned at the resignation he saw in the younger man’s face. “I can get and keep this place clean, and help you with logistics, get food in. And you’ve had my coffee, so there’s that. And maybe the archives, once you’re more comfortable with me. I can probably convince her to come up off my records, if that would help.”

“That would be helpful, yes.” Jack frowned. Never be cleared for fieldwork? Why not?

Ianto reached out to the obelisk. “Can you send my personnel file to Captain Harkness’ computer, please? And my medical history to Dr. Harper’s.”

_Of course._

Jack gave a huff, but then frowned. He was trying to understand. “So you would do all of these things, most of which are clearly beneath your training, just to be near her?”

Ianto shrugged. “She’s my friend. I lost everyone else, that day.”

“You’re an open, friendly sort. You haven’t made new friends, in two years?”

“What, like replacements?” Jack winced at Ianto's bitter tone. That wasn’t really what he had meant. Ianto knew that, really. He sighed. “Didn’t have much opportunity, to be honest. I’m sure your doctor will enlighten you.”

Jack frowned again. “All right. Go get your physical. Then sit with Toshiko to get your paperwork sorted. You and I can talk, after that.” He watched the handsome young man make his way to the med bay and turned to his office, where Ianto’s personnel file, and Mainframe’s commentary on Ianto’s personnel file, awaited.

***

Jack sat back from the screen, stunned. Ianto had been the most highly qualified of any of those assigned to interface with Mainframe. Extremely intelligent, perhaps one of the best to ever fully complete One’s extensive psychic training (there had only been a handful who had even survived the entire process), and adept at the mental shielding required for the interface. Though Jack was concerned that he had been compromised in some way, on that front, since Mainframe had influenced him to come back into the fold.

_I know what you’re thinking._

The words popped up on his screen.

 **Do you, now?** he typed.

_You think that he’s compromised, because I was able to call to him. But you do not use me as Torchwood One did. You do not deplete my resources. So I was able to find him, and reach out to him. It speaks to his abilities that he was able to hear and respond. He is not compromised, though I trust you will determine that, for yourself. But now that he is better, it is time for him to return to Torchwood._

**You keep saying that. What do you mean by ‘better’?**

“Jack!” Owen came crashing into Jack’s office, looking as though he’d seen a ghost. He quickly shut the door, crossed to Jack’s stash, poured himself a scotch, and downed it in one. Then he collapsed into the chair opposite Jack’s.

“Owen?”

“His medical records... He didn’t fare well when the Tower fell. He ended up with severe COPD. He was at death’s door when…” Jack had a sinking feeling. “He received a transplant.”

“Don’t tell me,” Jack groaned.

“Heart and lungs. The same day you coughed yours up.” Owen grimaced. “Rasmussen is cagier than I thought. He knew all along. He performed the bloody surgery on your new office toy.”

“Not a toy. He can interface with Mainframe.”

“We can all do that, Jack,” Owen pointed at Jack’s monitor, and his jaw dropped when a picture of a two-fingered salute popped up on the screen.”

“Not like this,” Jack glanced at the screen, which still held his conversation from earlier. “She deliberately let us hear her song today, but I’m certain he’s the only one she’s sung for, before.”

_Correct._

He pointed at the screen and chuckled. “And he’s the only one she’s shared her name with.”

_Also correct._

“Why? What’s so special about him?” Owen asked.

_You mean besides the fact that he’s kind and decent and tried to stop the ghost shifts, and helped the Doctor that day?_

Jack’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yes. Besides all that,” Owen waved it away as inconsequential. “Why did you manipulate things so that at the first opportunity, he’d receive Jack’s organs?”

_I merely secured the timeline._

**So you are from the future.**

_I am a citizen of space and time._

Jack frowned. He’d heard that before. Where had he heard that?

“Jack,” Owen brought his attention back to this moment. “He accepted the transplant. Flying colors. They had him on a heart monitor at first for some sort of minor arrhythmia, but that’s normal. He’s on immuno-suppressants, though by all indications, he doesn’t need them, even though all transplant recipients take them for the rest of their lives. His readings are all of a healthy twenty-four year-old. A healthy, _normal_ twenty-four year-old. Not an organ transplant recipient, one year post-op.”

“Oh, goddess,” Jack felt ill. “Is he… Do you think he’s… Affected, in any other way?”

_He’s fine, Jack._

Jack turned to the keyboard. **Shut it. _You_ did this.**

“I pricked his finger for a blood test. Everything seemed normal enough,” Owen said. “I can go back and cut him, see how long it takes to heal.”

_NO!_

“No!” Jack exclaimed. “Don’t you dare! We’ll find out, soon enough, with him working here.”

“Suit yourself,” Owen shrugged.

“I mean it, Owen. I know what it is, to be a test subject. Don’t do that to him. If he’s… affected, we’ll find out, without being any more cruel than this fate already is.”

Owen nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Got carried away. Though now I think about it, his scars look pretty normal, for one year out.” He looked at Jack, who was beginning to brood. “And this is good, yeah? We know who he is, now. And he’s here, where we can keep him under observation.”

Jack nodded, and Owen left.

_Don’t you dare sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Ianto Jones was not meant to die that night._

**What is he meant for, then? Something even more horrible? Something even more _Torchwood_? **Jack spat the words as he typed.

_I can only tell you that the timelines are intact._

That gave him pause. **Can you sense them, then?**

_I can._

**Where and when are you from, that you can do that? I don’t remember any computers – even at the Time Agency – with that capability.**

_Someday you will know._

**All will be revealed, in good time?** Jack smirked. **You sound like a fortune cookie.**

_Don’t hurt him, Jack._

Jack blinked. What a strange thing to say. **He’s a member of my team, now. Why would I hurt him?** he asked, confused.

There was no answer.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Ianto and Mainframe are now reunited. And Jack finally knows who received his heart and lungs.
> 
> Next up is a quick lead-in to their friendship, and then some more angst, where Jack learns more about Ianto and why he's struggling.
> 
> Hope you're enjoying!


	5. Chapter 5

Having seen Ianto’s personnel file in full, and having read his medical file, piecing together two very tough years – one of declining pretty much to the point of death, and the other climbing back to a place of fairly good health – Jack felt comfortable with giving Ianto the full tour of the hub. As expected, the reaction to the archives was one of dismay before being replaced by a grim resolve to set everything to rights.

The weeks passed, and Ianto settled in to his new surroundings. He soon made himself indispensable with his coffee-making skills, alone. As promised, he brought order to the chaos of the hub, making it look decades newer and then keeping it tidy. He spent his first weeks taking stock of the archives, assessing and planning how to go about organizing them.

The archives had not been properly tended since the mid-eighties. The team had scoured Torchwood One and anything that hadn’t gone to Torchwood Two had simply been dumped in the lower levels. It was appalling, and Jack was ashamed that it had happened on his watch. He’d always intended to take care of it, but then something more important had always come up. But now they were realizing that this was important, too.

Especially as Ianto had also been poring over their reports (what, in his spare time? Jack decided he needed to be certain the younger man wasn’t secretly living in the hub, now). He came to Jack with a report of his own, showing how in eight cases in the last half-year alone, a proper archive could have saved lives and/or property.

Somehow, Ianto was everywhere. He was up on all reports in the last two years, had done an assessment of the archives, kept the hub clean, gave them a coffee fix three (or in Jack’s case, four or five) times a day, and ordered their lunches, and sometimes their dinners. He also helped with scene cleanup and body disposal, as well as false identities and cover stories.

And somehow he’d also had time to spend hours with Mainframe, as well as Jack. They’d developed a bit of a rapport, actually, and Jack was pleased. He flirted shamelessly, but what was more important to him was the friendship that was developing between them. He could tell that there was something about the transplant that made Ianto uneasy, though it was just an impression, as the younger man went out of his way to avoid speaking about it.

As a team, they had decided not to tell Ianto about Jack’s condition, or that he was the donor. They wanted to get to know Ianto, to try to gauge how he would respond, before springing it on him.

As their friendship developed, Jack began noticing things. Ianto was one of the most capable workers – hell, one of the most capable _people_ – he’d ever met; and yet, he was very diffident – and extremely uncertain – about himself, and about his abilities. It was as though he couldn’t find his footing. And Owen’s abuse (as well as Suzie’s, to be honest) only served to further undermine him.

Jack also noticed that Ianto was struggling to get his weight up. Owen joined Rasmussen in encouraging him to gain weight – though with Owen, it was more like badgering. And Ianto always looked tired. Jack was uncertain whether this was because Ianto couldn’t sleep, or wouldn’t. And he couldn’t get a straight answer from the younger man as to which it was.

Most distressing was that he could tell that Ianto was drinking. Heavily, if the hangovers and excessive use of Owen’s hangover cure were any indication. He tried to talk to Ianto, but the younger man could be quite evasive, and had quickly become an expert in distracting Jack from his objective.

Then it all went to hell, Suzie went insane, and Gwen joined the team. She was bright and shiny and undamaged, and his head was completely turned. He forgot about his desire to understand Ianto. He forgot about their nascent friendship. He forgot that he had meant to watch over the younger man. At least, until the inevitable happened, and Gwen’s perfect image of him as a noble knight in shining armor was shattered because he was forced to make the tough decision, with the faeries.

It was Ianto’s friendship that had soothed him through the loss of Estelle and the sting of the loss of Gwen’s hero worship. Ianto was there, as he had always been, and as they chatted and began to confide in one another once again, Jack realized that he had missed his friend. And that he had taken the younger man for granted.

It was right before the mission to the Brecon Beacons that the recipient of the second kidney received a transplant. Jack was relieved, as was Owen. Oddly, Jack noticed that Ianto seemed distracted and out of sorts that week, though every time he checked in, Ianto assured him that he was fine.

And then the camping trip from hell happened. Jack was worried. Ianto had done well. He had saved Toshiko, likely saved them all by buying enough time for Jack to find them. But they’d beaten Ianto, and despite Owen’s assurances that the younger man was fine, Jack wasn’t as certain.

He kept a close eye on Ianto, and felt like kicking himself for not seeing what was obvious. Ianto was suffering. Not from the beating. He actually healed quite nicely from that. And quite normally, to Jack’s relief. No, something was tearing the younger man apart. He didn’t need Toshiko to tell him what she’d overheard with the alien pendant to know that Ianto was struggling.

He found Ianto at his local that night, drinking whisky and chasing it with a stout that looked more like motor oil than any self-respecting beer. He ordered a water and sat next to Ianto, and waited. The younger man made his way through two more glasses of whisky and a pint and a half of beer before speaking.

“What do you want, Jack?”

“Just checking in,” Jack answered quietly. “Toshiko was concerned by some things she heard.”

Ianto snorted. “Keep moving, Sir. Nothing to see here.” He drained the remainder of the pint.

“You’re hurting.”

“What do you care?” Ianto snarled and shoved away from the bar, throwing some cash down and walking out of the door before Jack could draw breath. He quickly followed.

“Ianto!”

“Leave me alone, Jack.”

“No. Tell me why you think I don’t care,” Jack caught Ianto’s arm and swung him around.

Ianto pulled his arm away and started walking again. “Not think. Know. I know you don’t care.”

Jack caught up and walked alongside Ianto, hands in his pockets. “How do you know, then?”

Ianto kept walking.

The payout from the government for the survivors of Torchwood One had been generous enough that he’d been able to buy a house in a decent neighborhood for Rhiannon and a flat for himself near the bay, with enough left over to put away for a rainy day. Or, as Ianto well knew, enough to put away for Rhi and her family, once he was gone.

So just as he’d walked from the hub to his local – a few blocks off the beaten path, still close to the bay but not in a touristy neighborhood – he now walked from his local to his flat. Despite the silent treatment, Jack continued to accompany him.

When he got to his flat, he unlocked the door and walked in, leaving it open for Jack to follow. Jack closed the door and turned to Ianto, who despite having drunk quite a lot – or perhaps because of that – was moving very deliberately, taking off his coat, then his suit coat, then his tie, waistcoat, and cufflinks. Rolling up his sleeves, he finally spoke.

“Coffee, Sir?”

Jack blinked. The polite butler’s mask was back in place. Perhaps he thought if he gave Jack a cup of coffee, he’d leave. “Answer my question, first.”

“Fine. You said you were my friend, but then someone better came along, and you dropped me, like we’re in bloody primary school.”

“Ianto,” Jack felt his face flush. Had he really expected Ianto not to notice? _Shit._

“No, you wanted to know, so I’m telling you. I know you flirt with everyone, but I thought we were friends. But then you completely forgot I even existed, other than for coffee or your lunch. Then she becomes disillusioned, and suddenly I exist again, so I can comfort you. And like a prat, I do.”

“Ianto, I’m sorry. You’re right. It was childish of me, and not how a friend should behave.”

“No, I get it. She’s _healthy_ ,” the word dripped with bitterness and disdain. “And attractive in her own way, I suppose. And I’m completely fucked up and useless,” he added despondently.

Jack blinked. Was Ianto actually jealous of Gwen? But that would mean… He squashed down any speculation, for later. “Ianto, no. You are not fucked up, and you’re certainly not useless. And I’m not after Gwen. I’m always telling her not to let things drift, with Rhys.”

Ianto scoffed. “Yes, and it’s easy to see how important that is to her,” he nodded. “Being as she’s screwing Owen until she can get her hooks into you.”

“Wait. What?”

“God, Jack. It’s so obvious, even M… Mainframe is snarking about it. But I thought Toshiko told you what she heard.”

It all finally clicked into place. “Oh,” Jack felt supremely stupid for not having realized what had been going on right under his nose.

“Yeah.”

“But _I_ don’t want Gwen.”

“Could’ve fooled the entire team, Sir.” Ianto huffed. “Including Gwen, by the way.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter,” he turned around and headed for the kitchen. “Would you like a cup of coffee, before you go? I’m fixing a pot.”

Jack didn’t plan on being dismissed so easily. “Only if you talk to me.”

“I’m bloody tired of _talking_ ,” Ianto hissed, his anger flaring.

“What do you mean?” Jack was surprised by the blistering anger in that statement.

“Everyone wants me to _talk_. They think if they can get me to open up, they can _fix_ me. _Save_ me.” He turned to Jack, his face fierce. “But then they won’t _listen_. And even _if_ they do, they don’t understand. They think I’m ungrateful, but I’m not. It’s not like I wanted to die. Not then, anyway,” he muttered the last.

Jack felt something cold grip his heart. “But you do now?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.” Ianto’s hands were shaking as he took hold of the jar of coffee beans on the counter. “I…” he looked at Jack, his face showing his pain and anguish. “I miss her. I miss Lisa. And I miss my friends. And I have no idea why I lived that day, when almost everyone else died. I don’t understand why I’m still here. And I don’t…”

He tried to get the top off of the jar, and beans spilled everywhere. In frustration, he hurled the jar at the far wall with an angry growl, shattering it and sending glass shards and coffee beans everywhere.

He fell to his knees with a sob…

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. Here comes the angst...


	6. Chapter 6

“I don’t understand why I’m still here. And I don’t…”

Ianto tried to get the top off of the jar, and beans spilled everywhere. In frustration, he hurled the jar at the far wall with an angry growl, shattering it and sending glass shards and coffee beans everywhere.

He fell to his knees with a sob and sat with his back to the refrigerator, his legs folded tailor-style, trying to calm his breathing.

Jack knelt before him. “You don’t…” he prompted. It suddenly seemed very important for Ianto to finish that sentence.

“I don’t know who I am anymore, Jack.” He looked at Jack as though the older man’s face held all the answers. “I know Owen told you,” he said, undoing two more shirt buttons and opening his shirt to show the top of the scar. “When the Tower fell, my lungs were damaged. I made it a year, but I was about to die.” He looked steadily at Jack. “I _knew_. Like I know this floor is under me, now. And it was okay. I mean, I didn’t want to go, but it… I’d had enough, you know?”

Jack nodded sadly. He reached out, tentatively. “Is it all right if I…?”

Ianto nodded, but screwed his eyes shut as Jack gently touched the top of the scar. He opened them again in surprise when he realized Jack’s touch didn’t pain him. Jack placed the flat of his hand over the heart (Ianto still couldn’t bring himself to think of it as _his_ heart), feeling it beating.

“It hurt. So much. And it had, for so long. And then someone died. I tried to find out about him, to know more about someone who would do such a thing, for a stranger. But there was nothing out there on him. It was like he just dropped from the sky to give this incredible _gift_ , and here I am, ungrateful bastard that I am…” he let out a sob.

“Stop that. It’s okay that it hurts, Ianto. That doesn’t make you ungrateful.”

Ianto scrubbed a hand over his face. “I should never have consented.”

“What?” Jack asked, startled.

“No. I mean… I should only have consented to the lungs. But it was less risky to do the lungs and heart. But there was nothing wrong with my heart, Jack. And they just _took_ it.” Ianto sobbed again.

Jack frowned. “What did they do with it?”

“They gave it to the next person on the list who was a match.”

Jack nodded.

“But it was _mine_. I let them take it, and it’s gone, now. And I have this strange… _thing_ … inside of me now, and it feels wrong. And it’s not me. And I’m afraid they took the part that was _me_.” He looked at Jack, tears streaming. “Jack, who am I, if they took the one bit that made me who I am? I’m not me anymore, and I don’t feel right, and I… I can’t go on like this.”

Jack pulled Ianto into his arms and held him as he wept. “You are who you always were, Ianto. You are your actions. You are all of your heroic deeds and all of your cowardly thoughts, and all of your amazing ideas, and all of your intelligent discussions and all of your wry comments and all of your silly jokes.

“You’re the perfect cup of coffee, when someone needs a boost. You’re the gentle hand on the shoulder when someone needs comfort. You’re the friendly conversation, when someone’s feeling lonely. You’re the understanding ear, when someone’s having a bad day. You’re the dry sense of humor that gets us through the hardest moments.”

Jack kissed the top of Ianto’s head. “It doesn’t matter whose heart is beating in your chest, because _you_ are the man who went back up those stairs, trying to save your fiancé. You are the man who tried to stop the ghost shifts. You are the man who convinced Hartman to give the Doctor a tour, rather than toss him in a cell. You are the man who gave your sister a house with your government payout money. You are the man who offered to do menial labor so his sentient alien computer friend wouldn’t be lonely, anymore.”

“How did you…”

“Mainframe told us a lot about that day. And Tosh did manage to find some things in your background check.” He sighed, and pulled Ianto closer. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, you are whoever you make up your mind to be. Your physical heart doesn’t dictate who you love, or how you care. You’re a good man, Ianto.”

“The doctor wants me to see a shrink. Probably thinks it’s either crazy or stupid to feel like this heart feels wrong in my chest.”

“Do the lungs feel wrong?”

Ianto shook his head. He took a deep breath. “Maybe that’s the difference. I needed the lungs. I’m grateful for them. It’s the most glorious thing in the world, to be able to draw breath again. It’s been a year, and it still hasn’t gotten old, or any less marvelous.”

Jack was trying really hard not to be offended that Ianto had called his heart a _thing_. He liked to think he had a big heart, but he knew it was damaged goods. Maybe that was what Ianto was sensing. He shook his head. He knew that his shortcomings were his own, and had nothing to do with his physical heart, which he knew to be strong and healthy.

But he actually thought he could understand what Ianto was saying. Clearly, the younger man’s sense of identity had been closely tied to his heart. It made a strange sort of sense that he saw it as wrong to just throw it away, when it was perfectly healthy. And now to have a stranger’s heart beating in his chest… It made sense to Jack, and he said so, feeling Ianto relax in his arms, just a bit. “And the doctor is sure that this isn’t any sort of complication?”

“No, the doctor actually seems baffled by how well the transplant went. There’ve been some strange things, but he’s done a lot of tests and says they’re nothing to worry about.”

“What strange things?” Jack asked.

“Well, about a month after the surgery, I had this… sensation. It felt a little bit like dying, actually.” He frowned at the memory. “But it was a far-away feeling, and not as intense.” He shrugged. “Silly, really. Some sort of phantom thing, the doctor reckons. But it happened again, just before the case in the Brecon Beacons.”

Jack blinked. _No._ It couldn’t be. He took a deep breath. Actually, the odds were against there being a real issue. He’d speak to Owen in the morning to be sure, though.

Ianto didn’t notice Jack’s unease. “And every now and then,” he continued, “it feels like it skips a beat. And then, a while later, it will thump _really_ hard, for one beat. Just the one, and then it’s normal again.”

Jack felt himself go slack-jawed. “How often does it happen?” He suddenly had a very bad feeling.

Ianto shrugged. “Not very. It’s just a strange sensation, is all.”

“Can you remember the last time it happened?” _Please don’t say last Tuesday. Please don’t say last Tuesday. Please don’t say…_

“Last week. Tuesday, I think.”

_ShitShitShitShitShit_

Ianto sniffed and sat away from Jack. “I just wish I knew who he was. The donor. I mean, I guess it shouldn’t matter. The way it doesn’t matter, really, who got my heart. She’s nice enough, but that’s not the point.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I just can’t help but feel like maybe it wouldn’t feel so strange, if it wasn’t a stranger.”

Jack stared at Ianto for a few moments, trying very hard to remember why exactly they’d decided not to tell him that Jack was the donor. He’d have to revisit the decision with Owen and Tosh. He wondered if he should bring Gwen into the discussion, since she knew about his condition, but then he thought better of it. Given what he’d just found out about Ianto feeling jealous of Gwen, that would be one complication too many.

“Well, why don’t you just decide what he was like?” Jack asked.

“Make something up, you mean?”

“Why not? If no further information is forthcoming, why not just choose?”

Ianto chuckled. “Well I’m grumpier and drink more, now. Could be Owen’s heart.”

“That would explain why he doesn’t have one, himself,” Jack grinned, and Ianto laughed.

It was a beautiful sound, but it ended all too soon.

“Actually, I hope he was like you, Jack,” Ianto’s face grew thoughtful.

“Me?” Jack squeaked. It was a manly squeak, but it was a squeak, nonetheless.

Ianto shrugged and blushed, but he was too drunk not to continue. “You’re strong and brave, and far kinder than you want people to realize. You’re loyal, and you have this _joy_ , sometimes… You’re smarter than you let on, and you always do the right thing, no matter how much it may hurt. And even though you may not be entirely certain of who you are, either, you’re still able to carry on with some degree of… confidence. You’re not perfect, but you never stop trying to be… _better_.”

Overcome, Jack pulled Ianto back into his arms and kissed him soundly. It was a lovely kiss, soft and passionate, but Ianto was too surprised to open to Jack, or to try any sort of exploration of his own. But it was perfect. He’d been wanting to kiss Jack for ages – honestly, since they’d captured Myfanwy. Once he’d got used to the idea, he hadn’t been able to shake it. But he didn’t think Jack felt the same way, despite the flirting, and he just didn’t have the confidence to make the attempt.

That word again.

Jack released Ianto from the embrace with an apology. “Ianto, I’m sorry. You’re drunk, and that was mmmf…” he was interrupted when Ianto stopped his words with another small kiss.

“Hush,” Ianto said. “I’m not _that_ drunk. But I do hope we continue this conversation when I’m more sober. I rather like where it’s going.”

“You do?” Jack did _not_ just squeak again.

Ianto chuckled and kissed Jack softly. “Yes.” He looked around at the mess and sighed. “I should…”

“No,” Jack interrupted. He stood up, and helped Ianto to his feet. “You’re going to go sleep.” He brushed a thumb under Ianto’s eye. “I get the feeling you don’t do much of that.” Then something occurred to him. “Why brew a pot of coffee after midnight?”

Ianto shrugged. “You really want to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Don’t care.”

Ianto sighed. “Okay. There are these two parts of me, see. And they’re at war. There’s the part that’s rejecting the new heart, at least up here,” he tapped his temple. “And the part that wants to live. And the part that wants to live is terrified that the other part will win.” He sniffed.

Jack reached out and ran his hand up and down Ianto’s arm. On the third downstroke, he took Ianto’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Guess I really could use that shrink, yeah?”

“How about try pretending, for a few days?” Jack said quietly. “Pretend that it _is_ my heart, beating in your chest. See if the part that’s rejecting it changes its mind. See if that will help you to take better care of it…”

Ianto sniffed again. He’d had far too much to drink, and it was making him talk too much, and cry too much, and feel too much…

He grabbed Jack by the shirt and shoved him against the refrigerator, kissing him with a vehemence that poured all of that feeling into Jack. Jack opened to Ianto’s demands and as the younger man deepened the kiss, he shoved a hand into Jack’s hair as the other snaked around his waist, pulling him closer.

They stayed in that clinch for a long while, each battling to dominate the kiss, and only breaking apart when forced to come up for air. “Stay with me,” Ianto whispered against Jack’s lips. He felt Jack’s desire, pushing insistently against his own, and rocked his hips forward, eliciting a needy moan from the older man. “Please.”

Jack sighed, and Ianto felt the sting of the rejection, without Jack having to even say anything. Shouldn’t surprise him, really. He hung his head and began disentangling himself from Jack. “Sorry,” he muttered, trying to get away, but Jack held firmly to him.

“Hey,” Jack nipped Ianto’s bottom lip and kissed him again, hard enough to show his desire, but not long enough to start them up again. He leaned his forehead against Ianto’s and exhaled raggedly. “Much as I’d love that – and believe me, I’d love nothing better – you’re drunk. And if we’re going to continue this ‘conversation’ when you’re sober, I don’t want it tainted by something you later decide was just some dumb thing you did, one night when you were drunk.”

Ianto backed away, nodding. Then he looked at Jack, and his face was a portrait of loneliness and grief. Jack felt as though he were looking in a mirror. “Stay with me, anyway?” When Jack opened his mouth to protest, Ianto held out his hand. “Just to sleep. Please…” he hung his head again, then muttered something about having already said too much, so what was one more thing, and added, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Jack took his hand and nodded. “Neither do I.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the US, and I'll be on the road, and then with family. I'll try to post if I can, but if I don't you'll know why... And in case I don't, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I'm truly thankful for the Archive, its writers, and those kind enough to read my stuff. ❤
> 
> I'm really pleased with this chapter, though Jack does go on, a bit. But Ianto frightened him with his confession, and Jack _can be_ endearingly corny, so I left it all in.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

Ianto woke the next morning, having slept for almost ten hours and was immediately assaulted by an all-too familiar conflict of emotions. He felt refreshed, though he knew he needed more than one good night’s sleep to make up for the many he’d missed. And he felt a crushing disappointment that Jack was gone.

But he smiled as he realized that he could still smell Jack’s gorgeous scent, which now saturated his sheets and pillow. He’d awakened surrounded by that scent, which calmed him better than anything else he’d ever encountered. He smiled and snuggled further into the bedding, falling easily back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

It was the first time in his life that Ianto slept through a workday.

***

Jack had also slept soundly through the night – a first in decades, for him. He woke in time to call in and say that Ianto was off sick for the day, and he was out on a breakfast run. He went to the hub with breakfast and checked on Toshiko. They had another conversation, and he hoped he helped her begin sorting through her feelings.

He then called Owen in and told them a bit of his conversation with Ianto, the night before.

“So,” Tosh frowned. “You think he sensed when each of the kidneys failed?”

“And you think he feels it, when you die?” Owen asked. He pointed his pen at Jack. “Bollocks.”

Jack sat back. “It’s not like I want this to be true, you know. He said the last time he felt it was last Tuesday. And a weevil got the better of me, last Tuesday. I’m not saying that’s what this is, but it makes a strange sort of sense.

“How?” Tosh asked, still frowning.

“His psi aptitudes are off the charts. It’s why he was able to establish an interface with Mainframe. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he can talk to her without the physical interface, now. It’s more taxing for him, but I think that’s temporary, like building a new muscle. He’s only getting stronger. It makes sense to me that he would be sensitive to the life in his chest, and the life related to it.”

He blinked. It also made sense, that he missed his own heart the way he did. He hadn’t felt the need to share that bit with Owen and Tosh – it seemed too personal. But now it was all slotting into place. It was a psychic wound for Ianto, being separated from his heart. Jack vaguely wondered if there might be a way to safely sever that old connection.

The lungs weren’t an issue because, for all intents and purposes, they had already died. He’d suffered that wound as it had happened. The separation from his heart was ongoing, because it was still alive, but absent from Ianto. And his new heart and lungs had still been psychically attached to the kidneys – everything else was dead by the time Ianto received the transplant. But the kidneys…

“Gods, I think he felt it, when they died,” Jack shook his head.

“Maybe Mainframe has something on psychic attachments like this,” Tosh suggested. “I’ll do some research. Hopefully she’ll be eager to help her Crumpet,” she giggled.

Jack chuckled along.

“And I’ll keep an eye out. See if we can track this. Check if he has a funny turn, the next time you kick off.”

“Owen,” Tosh admonished.

Owen smirked.

***

Jack returned to Ianto’s flat, surprised when the younger man continued to sleep soundly. Jack considered their conversation a bit more, and his heart went out (no pun intended) to Ianto, for all he’d lost, and all his struggles. Jack resolved to consult with Mainframe, who seemed to know Ianto best, about ways to help.

In the meantime, he began to tidy up, carefully moving furniture and finding coffee beans in the most unlikely places. He was working on his laptop several hours later when he finally heard Ianto moving around. He looked up and saw possibly the most endearing sight he’d seen in many decades as a rumpled, sleepy-eyed Ianto emerged from the bedroom, looking adorably befuddled.

“Jack?” he asked, his confusion only deepening. “What’s going on?”

“You just slept for about twenty hours,” Jack smiled, rising from the sofa and kissing his cheek. “Why don’t you go shower and wake up a bit more, and I’ll order some Chinese food.”

Ianto nodded and, rubbing one eye, shuffled back to the bedroom. Jack chuckled and picked up the menu that had been attached to Ianto’s refrigerator with one of the magnets from the Tourist Information Centre and ordered his and Ianto’s favorite dishes.

Ianto seemed a bit more alert when he emerged from the bedroom wearing track pants and a t-shirt. His hair was still wet, and curling at the ends. Jack handed him a cup of tea once he took the meds that had been in a pill box on the bench in the kitchen. “Anti-rejection meds?” Jack asked, and Ianto nodded.

After they had eaten, Ianto sat back on the sofa, watching the television idly. “You know,” he began, his voice pitched low, “I’m completely sober, now.”

Jack turned to him and grinned. “The thought had occurred to me.”

“Had it?” Ianto reached up and ran a hand through Jack’s hair, gently encouraging him to lean closer.

“Oh, yes,” Jack leaned closer. “I’ve been hoping we’d resume our… conversation,” he whispered against Ianto’s lips.

The kiss was slow and unhurried, and Jack gently maneuvered Ianto so by the time the kiss broke, they were lying on the sofa, Ianto on his back and Jack partly on his side. His back was pressed against the back of the sofa, and his front was pressed against Ianto. He moved so he was partially draped over the younger man, one leg now resting between Ianto’s.

“I’m intrigued,” Ianto smiled, “but I’m not sure I’m fully convinced by that particular line of reasoning.”

“Oh, but I have an even better argument I think you might find quite,” Jack breathed into Ianto’s ear before drawing the lobe into his mouth and lapping at it, “compelling.”

Ianto moaned into Jack’s mouth as they kissed again, and Jack felt Ianto tugging at his shirts. Soon Jack’s trousers were unbuttoned and he was shirtless as Ianto’s hands explored the smooth skin of his torso. Jack reached for the hem of Ianto’s t-shirt, and felt the younger man freeze.

“You all right?” he pulled back and studied the apprehension on Ianto’s face.

“I… have scars,” Ianto whispered. "You only saw part of one. But there are others. From the surgery, and from… that day.” He looked away. “I… I don’t know what you’ll think.”

“I think scars are sexy, but you can keep your shirt on, if you don’t want me to see them.” Jack kissed Ianto heatedly. “I think you’d enjoy yourself more without it, though.”

Ianto bit his lip. “It’s just… I’ve only done this one other time, since…” he looked away, embarrassed. “We didn’t even get undressed, until we were done. She was joking about round two when I took off my shirt.” He looked at Jack when the older man touched his cheek to turn him back to face him, again. “She looked like she was going to be ill. Suddenly didn’t feel well. Asked me to leave.”

“Silly cow,” Jack grumbled. “Ianto, I’m sorry that happened, but you have to know that grown-ups don’t behave that way. And for all our jokes that I’m a giant toddler, I know you don’t think I’d do that.”

“I know,” Ianto reached up and caressed Jack’s face. “But you are so…” he hesitated, then seemed to screw up his courage. “…beautiful,” he whispered. “You deserve someone beautiful, not some wreck.”

Jack kissed Ianto again, grateful that the younger man’s body was not allowing such thoughts to overrule its reaction to Jack and their kisses. “You’re not a wreck. You’re a warrior.” He kissed Ianto again when he snorted derisively. “I mean it. Every mark on you is evidence of your courage, and your resilience.” He laughed softly and kissed Ianto again. “Gods, Ianto. You’re gorgeous, and don’t even know it.”

More kisses and caresses and reassurances saw Ianto’s t-shirt falling to the floor some minutes later. Jack leaned over Ianto and caressed his face, then, watching closely for Ianto’s reaction, his hand moved lower to gently trace the scars. He stilled when Ianto hissed. “Am I hurting you?”

Ianto frowned. “No. It’s just… It normally hurts, when someone touches them.” He huffed again. “More proof I need that shrink, because it isn’t physical pain.”

“No, I get it,” Jack said, going back to softly touching the scars from the chest tubes. “You know, these look kind of badass.” He found a jagged scar along Ianto’s left side, and Ianto told him it was from falling debris at the Tower.

Jack leaned in for a long, languorous kiss, and as Ianto began relaxing into it, he moved to his jaw, then his neck. He made sure Ianto could see what he was going to do before dipping his head and kissing and licking along the line of the scar on Ianto’s chest. Jack smiled when Ianto’s gasp morphed from surprise and apprehension to something else, entirely.

Jack lavished attention on Ianto’s torso, pinching and nipping and sucking at his nipples, finding he was very sensitive and responsive, and not shy about expressing his reactions to Jack’s attentions. He’d suspected Ianto would be a quiet lover, but he was very pleased to find that wasn’t the case. Jack was lapping at the round scars on Ianto’s abdomen when he grabbed Jack by the hair.

“Jack,” he panted.

“Ianto?” Jack grinned up at him. Ianto was writhing beneath him, and Jack knew he wouldn’t last long. Made sense, if this was only his second time in two years. Jack secretly wanted to know how fast he could make Ianto unravel, this first time. Thereafter, he wanted to see how long he could draw it out. He meant to torture this gorgeous man with pleasure; after all, he deserved some serious gratification, after all the pain he had endured.

Ianto pulled at Jack’s hair, hauling him up to face him. “I’m not going to last, if you keep that up.”

Jack kissed him deeply. “That’s the plan,” he grinned. When Ianto’s eyes widened he added, “Need you to last, later. But for now, I’m going to make you come, hard and fast.”

Ianto’s hips juddered against Jack’s at the promise, and he kissed Jack again, drinking deep. “Okay,” he nodded, grinning at Jack.

Jack laughed and kissed his way back down Ianto’s body. Soon the track pants were on the floor as well, and Jack had swallowed Ianto whole, without any warning. Ianto cried out and flailed his arms, one hand grabbing the back of the sofa and the other grasping Jack’s shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. His hips bucked, but he tried to steady himself, not wanting to just shove himself down Jack’s throat.

Jack hummed around him, and his hips juddered again. He hissed and let out a Welsh curse, which had Jack chuckling. Without warning, he released Ianto and looked up, his eyes dancing.

“What…” Ianto looked up, feeling a bit desperate, actually.

“You’re holding back, Ianto.”

Ianto nodded dumbly. “I didn’t want to just…”

“Oh, but I want you to. I want to see you completely abandoned to this, to me. Just let go, Ianto. You’re not going to be rude, and you’re not going to hurt me.” He smirked as Ianto’s eyes widened in surprise that Jack recognized his concerns. Then he felt his lust kick up another notch as Jack’s eyes darkened even more and he said, “I want to see you undone, Ianto. I want to see who you are, at your most primal. You told me you don’t know who you are anymore. Well, let’s find out, together. Do you trust me to help you see?”

Ianto nodded breathlessly, and Jack climbed back up to kiss him, again. “Good. Then I need you to let go. Just let go, Ianto. You can trust me. Whatever happens here is between us. I won’t laugh, unless it’s sharing joy with you. I won’t mock or embarrass you. This is just for us.” He kissed Ianto again, and Ianto moaned into his mouth, so close to coming, just from the kiss. Jack pulled back and grinned. “Nope. I want to taste you, this time.”

What followed was one of the most raw, erotic, intense experiences of Ianto’s life (so far). Jack was growling around Ianto’s cock as he did as instructed and abandoned himself to the sensations Jack was eliciting. Between Jack’s bobbing head and talented hands – one was doing magical things with Ianto’s balls, and Ianto lost track of the number of fingers in his arse – and his own thrusting hips, Ianto was screaming through his release far too quickly.

He might even have passed out for a moment, at some point.

When he came back to himself, Jack was kissing him sweetly and still touching his scars. “Holy fucking hell, Jack,” he breathed, and Jack chuckled.

“You all right?” the question was all care and concern, and no cocky swagger. “You kind of checked out for a few minutes.”

“That was pretty intense,” Ianto breathed. He reached up and stroked Jack’s face, pulling him down for another kiss. It was then that he felt Jack’s arousal pressing against his hip. He turned on his side to face Jack. He leaned back and began tracing his hand down Jack’s chest. “Can I…”

Jack rotated his hips to give Ianto better access, his eyes warm and welcoming. Ianto swallowed. “I’ve not…” He blushed. “That is, I’ve never…”

“Sure you have,” Jack grinned, then waggled his eyebrows, and Ianto laughed. “Don’t be nervous. Start with what you like having done to you. I promise, you’re not going to do anything wrong, unless you plan on getting up and walking away, right about now.”

Ianto chuckled again. He leaned in and kissed Jack, leaning up on his elbow and pressing Jack further down to get a better angle to thoroughly explore the older man’s mouth. His hand traced its way down that gorgeous torso and Jack gasped as Ianto cupped him through his trousers.

Soon Ianto had stripped Jack, and he sat back and just stared at the beautiful man lying next to him. He sucked in a breath and looked at Jack. “You really are beautiful, you know.”

Jack chuckled and kissed him. “Thank you, but I hope you know I think you are, as well.”

Ianto blinked, then began exploring. He kissed and touched and tasted, and soon Jack was squirming in a very gratifying way, given it was Ianto’s first attempt at driving another man crazy. He’d maneuvered Jack onto his back, and was exploring his chest with lips, tongue and teeth, enjoying Jack moving beneath him. The heat of Jack’s inflamed cock brushing against Ianto’s belly as he moved further down was beginning to awaken Ianto’s body again, but he ignored those stirrings to focus on Jack.

As he worked his way down to have a better look at Jack in his altogether, he realized that just because he hadn’t previously considered other men beautiful, that didn’t make Jack any less so. The man was gorgeous, and Ianto’s mouth watered. He dipped down to taste the precum leaking from Jack’s cock. At Jack’s hiss, he took the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

“Shit!” Jack exclaimed. “Fuck! Ianto!” Ianto smiled and hummed as Jack began babbling. He became curious, and began experimenting with how much of Jack he could take in, discovering how his gag reflex seemed to work, and beginning to figure out how to overcome it.

In the next moment, Jack was grasping his shoulder frantically. “Ianto! Ianto, I’m….”

Ianto grinned and ran his tongue through the slit of Jack’s cock as he squeezed his balls, just so. He gave the head a small suck, anticipating the buck of Jack’s hips and holding on. That one taste had made him want more. He plunged his head down and hollowed his cheeks as he dragged his way back up to the tip, giving Jack another squeeze.

Jack came with a shout, and Ianto knew he was lost. Jack’s essence was a little bitter and a lot sweet, and he knew he’d never get enough. He swallowed all he could, greedily taking it in and then sat up, watching Jack’s face as his body rode out the aftershocks.

No, he was never going to get enough of this…

Jack opened his eyes, feeling something akin to awe. He’d expected a bit more of that lovely snogging and a clumsy hand job, but if this was what Ianto could do to him with his first attempt at a blowjob, then Jack was in serious trouble. “Jesus, Ianto. You sure you’ve not done that, before?” He grinned at the loopy, cat-that-got-the-cream look on the younger man’s face and then gave a start…

Ianto had _swallowed_. On his first try. Jack had gagged, the first time he’d tried that. And that certainly hadn’t been the first time Jack had given a blowjob, either. Sure, there was a bit dribbling down Ianto’s chin, but that only served to make Jack’s cock twitch. He sat up and pulled Ianto into his arms. He licked his own come off of the younger man’s chin and then kissed him hard, thrusting his tongue into Ianto’s mouth.

Ianto moaned and sucked on Jack’s tongue like it was the most exquisite thing he’d ever tasted.

_Shit_

Jack knew he was lost, and he just didn’t have the wherewithal to fight it as he realized that Ianto was hard and ready, again. “What do you want?” he asked, breathless. In that moment, he’d likely give Ianto anything.

And it scared the hell out of him.

“You. Everything. I…” Ianto fell against Jack, kissing him deeply. “Show me…”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... so that just happened.
> 
> _Ahem_
> 
> I hope it was clear in the narrative (before things turned a bit blue) that Ianto is psychically linked to his original heart, as well as everything living that's associated with his new heart and lungs. That includes the two kidneys that were harvested at the same time, and pretty much all of Jack. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Jack woke slowly after another uncharacteristically long sleep, feeling sore and boneless and sated after a night of truly fantastic sex. Ianto Jones was a fucking revelation. Or a revelation at fucking. Or…

_Damn._

So much for sated…

Jack opened his eyes and saw a sight he could get used to. Ianto, naked and disheveled, sleeping deeply beside him. The younger man was sprawled out on his belly, an arm slung across Jack’s middle, and his head on Jack’s outstretched arm. Jack wasn’t certain how it could be comfortable, but he didn’t want to move and disturb the younger man’s sleep.

Ianto’s marathon of sleep had shown Jack that he really needed to start taking better care of himself. And Jack was no fool. Embarking on an affair was not going to solve Ianto’s problems, though assuaging the loneliness might help. But the best Jack could honestly hope for was to not make things worse for his lover.

A slow, lazy smile spread across Jack’s face. _His lover._ Now that was something he’d not had for a very long time. Perhaps it was time. This was rather nice. And Ianto. Wow. He was curious and energetic and absolutely fearless, except that he was a bit too careful with Jack. But that was to be expected, until he learned more. He certainly wasn’t like most new lovers who’d never been with another man.

There was a deep and earnest passion that belied Ianto’s inexperience and lent a sort of confidence to his actions. Even when he was uncertain because it was new, he trusted the spark between them to lead him in the right direction. Jack had offered to help Ianto find himself, and he couldn’t help but think that they were doing just that.

Jack now understood the uncertainty that had plagued Ianto, despite his capabilities. It was down to being uncertain of who he was in the world, now that he was no longer as he had been. Losing his own heart, gaining that of another that still felt strange to him – both of those things had made him unsure of himself. Added to that the discovery that his sexuality was a bit more fluid than he had previously thought… it was no wonder he was struggling to get his feet under him.

But here, it was just the two of them, stripped of all the masks and trappings of the outside world, and Jack had done his best to make Ianto feel safe in exploring an aspect of himself that had perhaps been contributing to his lack of confidence in his walking around world. It was by no means the primary issue, but at the very least it would be one less thing worrying Ianto.

Jack was brought out of his reverie by the realization that a pair of gorgeous blue eyes were smiling at him. “Good morning,” he grinned.

“Penny for them?” Ianto asked.

“I just realized,” Jack said, taking the opportunity to reclaim his arm so he could indulge in a languorous stretch. “I haven’t let anyone top me in…” he caught himself. He was about to say, “…decades”. But Ianto didn’t know about Jack’s ‘condition’, yet. And Jack didn’t want to tell him. He wanted to confide in Ianto. The impulse to tell his new lover all of his secrets was almost overwhelming, but he didn’t want to spoil things so soon.

_Not yet._

He knew what would happen, once Ianto found out. And he didn’t want to lose this quite so soon.

“…in a really long time,” he finished stretching and finished the sentence. “For me, it’s always been a trust thing.”

“Jack,” Ianto’s face was a picture. Jack wished he could capture the expression of humility and appreciation and gratitude. Ianto leaned up and kissed Jack, a slow and patient kiss that gained some momentum as Jack pulled him closer and took a deeper dive. Ianto pulled back. “Thank you,” he smiled.

“I hope you’ll trust me with that, as well,” Jack kissed Ianto again.

“I told you, I want you to show me everything,” Ianto smiled and kissed him again.

“Easy, Tiger,” Jack chuckled. “Not that I don’t want to give you what you’re asking for, but this is all pretty new to you. There’s no need to rush. I want to be sure you’re ready before I…”

“Fuck me senseless?” Ianto asked cheekily, and Jack laughed.

Then he turned serious and cupped Ianto’s cheek. “Before I take your virginity,” he whispered, kissing Ianto tenderly.

Ianto looked exasperated when Jack leaned away. “I’m not some blushing schoolgirl, you know.”

“Thank Christ for that,” Jack said, causing Ianto to laugh. “I feel old enough, as it is.” He kissed Ianto again. “Ianto, if that’s something you decide you trust me with, then it is not something I take lightly. Where I’m from, it’s a sacred thing.”

Ianto pulled Jack close and kissed him for a long while, and somehow when they came up for air they were wrapped around one another, their mutual arousal pulling them higher and higher until they tumbled over the edge, falling together as they fell apart.

***

The weeks that followed were a blissful blur in which Jack and Ianto shagged like a pair of rabid bunnies on Viagra. Mainframe had resumed what Ianto referred to as her ‘smug demeanor’, though she refused to share what had her feeling so self-satisfied.

Jack was convinced that she was happy because Ianto was happy. Jack knew he derived a great deal of satisfaction from seeing Ianto smile more often and come out of his shell a bit more. He was even taking less grief from Owen, returning snark for insult, as the occasion demanded. He was also beginning to draw Toshiko out of her shell, forming a little two-person book club and taking her to movies so they could have things to talk about.

Jack also found himself secretly reading the books so he could then discuss them with Ianto, as well. Ianto noticed, of course, and began selecting books he thought Jack might actually enjoy. Something about that gesture made Jack feel special, even as it terrified him.

Interestingly, Gwen brought Suzie back from the dead. A smidgeon of gross insubordination later, the rest of the team was locked in the hub. Ianto could only hope that being shot in the head _very slowly_ was enough of a lesson to preclude that sort of behavior, in future. He was concerned that he was being bitchy, but Mainframe assured him that leaving the hub against orders with their chief suspect had been an incredibly boneheaded thing to do.

Of course, she also had quite a few words to say about using the gauntlet again, in the first place. Ianto secretly agreed with her, but he had not felt equal to taking Jack to task over it. He knew Jack was already hurting about having to kill Suzie, and he just didn’t have the heart. What he did have, however, was the nerve to make a rather unconventional proposition.

In all honesty, it was no more preposterous (or corny) than some of Jack’s one-liners. But still. It was his first attempt, and as such it was to be celebrated, even if it felt a bit stilted. It had, in any event, led to a singularly memorable night, because that was the night Jack claimed Ianto’s virginity.

Ianto had not wanted to see it that way, but the care and attention that Jack lavished on him left him with no regrets. He had not imagined it could be such a beautiful experience, though he had seen (indeed, had been responsible for) Jack’s pleasure, many times by then. But there was something particularly intimate that he had not experienced in the same way when he was topping.

Before the night was done, he knew he was in love with Jack.

Mainframe went from smug to downright insufferable.

***

It was a Monday afternoon. Gwen was off investigating the death of Eugene Jones. Owen was playing a video game. Toshiko was working on her translation program. Jack was pretending to do paperwork and counting the minutes until he could chase the others off and have his wicked way with his favorite archivist.

Just as he saved the latest report and went to open the next, Mainframe began shouting at him.

_JACK! IANTO’S IN TROUBLE! COME HELP!!!_

Feeling a sense of panic, Jack ran out into the hub, where Ianto had collapsed in front of the water tower. Toshiko was kneeling by his head as he lay on his side, clutching his chest and crying out in pain.

_Ianto was clutching his chest._

Jack felt his own chest constrict with fear and panic as Owen ran up with the portable scanner.

“All right, Tea Boy. Tell me what’s happening.”

“Jack,” Ianto whimpered, then cried out again.

“I’m here,” Jack knelt beside Ianto, his knees at the younger man’s back. He reached around and cradled Ianto’s head in one hand and grasped one of Ianto’s hands with the other. Ianto seized Jack’s hand and gripped it, hard. Jack looked at Owen, who was staring at the scanner, frowning. “What?”

Owen reset the device and scanned Ianto again. He shook his head. “It says he’s fine.”

Ianto curled up, hauling Jack down. “I’m dying,” he whispered. “I… Jack…” he cried out, once again.

“Elevated blood pressure and heart rate, and he’s damned near hyperventilating, but he’s fine.”

“Clearly, he’s not! Scan him again!” Jack ordered.

“Jack, I’ve scanned him three times. There’s nothing wrong with him!” Owen shouted. He was close to panic, himself. _Something_ was wrong, and he couldn’t figure out what.

 _Ffion Griffiths_.

Everyone looked up as the name floated through their minds.

“No,” Ianto whimpered. “Please, no…”

Toshiko stood and ran for her computer, looking at the information Mainframe was dumping onto her screen. “There’s a Ffion Griffiths just admitted to Morriston Hospital in Swansea. Initial diagnosis is… oh…” she looked over her shoulder at Ianto, then came back and knelt beside him, again. “She might be rejecting the heart, Ianto.”

He closed his eyes, tears streaming. “She’s dying,” he whispered. “Something’s happened, and…” he screamed, gripping Jack’s hand so hard Jack felt something pop. Then he went so still that Jack was certain he’d stopped breathing.

Owen was scanning him again. “Ianto? Ianto!” He turned the younger man on his back and Jack felt another jolt of panic to see those blue eyes, staring at nothing. Owen knelt down, pressing his ear to Ianto’s chest. He leaned back and looked at Jack, his face showing his concern before looking at Ianto again. “Sorry, Tea Boy,” he muttered, then reared back and slapped Ianto, hard.

“Owen!” Jack shouted.

Ianto gasped, gulping in a deep breath before coughing. He curled back up on his side and began weeping. Jack pulled him into his arms and held him as he shook with shock and grief and pain.

Toshiko walked back to her computer, but they all knew what she would find. “She just coded in A&E,” she said quietly. “They are attempting to resuscitate her, but…”

Owen stood and went to read over her shoulder. “No, they’ve called it,” he muttered. He looked back over his shoulder and shook his head.

“Mainframe and I looked, but we never could find a way to sever the psychic link,” Toshiko told him, watching Jack rock Ianto as he wept. “Owen, I think he really actually just _felt_ his heart – his former heart – die.”

Owen could not argue. Ianto had shown all the signs of heart attack. Earlier in the day, he had complained of nausea, and seemed chilled. Owen had questioned him minutely, and Ianto had admitted to being a bit short of breath and having intermittent cold sweats. After scanning him and finding nothing wrong, Owen decided that perhaps Ianto was coming down with something and resolved to watch him.

A few minutes before, as Ianto had concluded his day’s interface with Mainframe, he had grabbed onto Tosh’s chair, saying he felt dizzy. Then he said it had passed (the liar), but before he got to the water tower, he had fallen out, holding his chest and gasping for breath.

“Get me her records, yeah?” he asked Tosh. “He’ll want to know what happened.”

Toshiko nodded and turned back to the keyboard. They both avoided watching as Jack attempted to put Ianto back together again.

***

An hour later, Ianto was sitting dry-eyed on the sofa, his jacket off, his waistcoat unbuttoned, his tie loose and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. His hands were shaking as Jack helped him raise a mug of tea to his lips. “Sorry to be a bother,” he muttered.

“Ianto, you’re not a bother,” Jack reassured. “That was a major psychic event. It’s no wonder that it hit you hard.”

Ianto reached out, and Jack took his hand, giving it a squeeze. He hated seeing Ianto so devastated. And he didn’t trust the masks that were coming back up as Ianto calmed himself. The tremors in his hands were enough to tell Jack that the calm demeanor was contrived.

Jack’s phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket. With a huff, he answered, “Still with us, Gwen?” He listened for a moment and then, eying Ianto, said, “Okay. Someone will be there in a few.”

After he hung up, Ianto gave Jack’s hand a squeeze. “Go. Take the others. I could use a few minutes to myself.”

“You’ll be all right?”

“I’m fine, Jack.”

Jack believed the small smile Ianto gave him about as much as that piece of fiction. But he understood Ianto’s need to have a few moments, to himself. “Owen! Tosh! Gear up. Gwen reckons she found that alien eye.”

Both looked to Ianto, then back to Jack. “I don’t like it either,” he muttered to them, out of earshot of Ianto. “But maybe having a few minutes to himself will help.”

“I’ll get Mainframe to watch over him, and ask her to alert us, if she thinks he needs help.”

“Good idea, Tosh.”

***

After the others left, Ianto sat on the sofa and stared at nothing. His heart was truly gone, now. It no longer beat. And it felt as though it had been scooped out of his chest with a dull spoon. It physically _hurt_. Never mind the pain of feeling it die. Or the anguish. Or the grief for Ffion. Or…

He found himself on his knees by the sofa, screaming in pain and grief and anguish. He was hyperventilating, again. He was truly frightened that he was losing his mind. He managed to stumble to the alcove where Mainframe lived, and fell against her.

“Please… help me, Melody!”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, _please_ let me know what you think...
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)


	9. Chapter 9

“He just came out of nowhere and saved my _life_!” Gwen declared, not for the first time. “And it was _Eugene_!” Owen rolled his eyes as Toshiko reached back from the front seat and gave Gwen’s arm a squeeze.

“It was pretty amazing,” Tosh replied, though her enthusiasm was flagging. She was worried about Ianto. “Jack, was it the eye that made that possible, do you think?”

“I’m not sure, Tosh,” Jack frowned. “It’s usually just a way to look back, gain perspective. I’ve never heard of it animating ghosts, before.”

Jack slammed on the brakes as a high-pitched noise seemed to pierce his skull. As the others protested, he held his head, trying to get his shields back up. Once they were, he realized what had happened. “Everybody, out!” he shouted.

“What the fuck, Harkness?”

“Jack, what’s wrong?”

“Get a cab back to the hub. Something’s wrong. I need to go…” he growled and shouted through his shielding for Mainframe to calm down. “Tosh, pull up a chat window. I need a word with Mainframe.”

“What’s happened?” Tosh asked as her fingers flew across the keyboard, and she rotated the monitor and keyboard around to Jack.

“Hopefully nothing, but I need to check something out,” he replied. “You lot go back to the hub, make sure everything is secure.”

“Jack?” Tosh looked at him, wide-eyed.

“Mainframe is transmitting that there has been some sort of breach. I can’t tell you any more than that,” he replied. “Please go. I need to chase down a lead.”

“But how do you know?” Gwen asked. Owen and Tosh gathered their things and climbed out of the SUV. “Jack, I’m coming with you,” she declared.

“Get back to the hub,” Jack gritted. “Now!”

Gwen jumped and scrambled out of the SUV, then stood by the others as they watched it race away.

Jack rounded the corner and then pulled into a car park. His hands were shaking as he reached for the keyboard. **What’s happening? What was that I just felt?**

_I’m sorry if I hurt you. I was trying to reach out to you, but since I haven’t tried it before, I wasn’t sure how difficult it would be._

**Next time you don’t have to try so hard. Now what’s wrong?**

_Ianto went from quietly grieving to screaming in agony. He was able to get to me, and I helped him calm, but I know a psychic attack when I see one. Something has shattered his shields._

**Well, the death of Ffion Griffiths…**

_Weakened his shielding, but he was coping. Something completely brought them down. I’m not sure if it was an attack on him, or Torchwood, or something else entirely. I shielded him as best I could while he cobbled something together, but I think he was getting bleedover from everyone in at least a mile-wide radius. He ran from here looking… desperate._

**Have you been able to track him?**

_The last facial recognition hit was just outside the Altolusso._

Jack did not respond. He slammed the SUV into gear, turned on the lights, and sped towards the building in question, his heart in his throat. When he reached the building – one of his favorites to perch on, until this moment – he looked up as he jumped out of the SUV. There, on the top of the open tower, someone sat.

“No, no, no, no,” Jack muttered, running for the building.

***

Ianto was sitting on the right-hand corner of the beam that formed the face of the open portion of the tower that topped the Altolusso apartment building – one of the highest structures in Cardiff. He was rocking, slightly. He wasn’t entirely certain how he’d ended up here; he was the slightest bit afraid of heights, and the side beam that he’d clearly traversed to get to this place was nowhere near wide enough for him to cross without being struck by vertigo.

But now he was sitting, and he thought he saw the appeal, for Jack. The high winds were no fun, though. And it was starting to rain.

“Ianto?” Jack called softly, trying not to startle him. He was on the left-front corner of the tower, walking slowly towards Ianto.

Ianto sighed. He didn’t want Jack to see this. “Please leave,” he muttered.

“But this is one of my favorite places in the whole city!” Jack said with false cheer, sweeping his arm out to call attention to the view. He saw Ianto flinch and knew he had something he could work with. He walked over and sat beside Ianto, their legs dangling. “What’s going on, Tiger?”

Ianto startled Jack when he brought his hands up to grip the sides of his head. In his right hand was a gun. “Something… I think something got messed up, when Ffion died,” he said, his voice shaking with obvious pain and distress. “I… I can’t make the screaming stop.”

“No, something or someone hit you when you were weakened,” Jack said. Ianto dropped his hands and looked at Jack, surprised. “Mainframe said she felt it. Yes, your defenses were weakened because of the jolt of losing Ffion, but you were holding your own. But then something came along and obliterated your psychic shields.”

Jack looked at Ianto and extended his right arm, but did not wrap it around Ianto. His raised eyebrows asked for permission, and Ianto leaning in to his body granted it. Jack held Ianto to him and kissed the top of his head. “Will you allow me to share my shielding with you? Let’s get you shored up before you make a decision that may not be entirely yours. You’re pretty powerful, you know? What you’re describing as screaming is probably everyone within at least a mile, all jumbled together. Let’s make them shut up, and get back to the roof, and talk. Can we do that?”

Ianto burrowed past Jack’s coat and shirt collars and Jack felt a very cold nose scenting his neck. He reached out with his shielding and extended it to Ianto, praying he could remember well enough to get this right.

“It hurts, Jack,” Ianto leaned closer.

“I know it does. Can you stand?”

Ianto shook his head. “Not sure how I got out here, without falling.”

“Another indicator that this was deliberate,” Jack shook his head and then leaned down and kissed Ianto, pouring strength and care towards him in as controlled a fashion as he could manage. He wanted to shore Ianto up, not overwhelm him with one more thing. He could tell that extending his mental shields was already helping, though. He grinned. “We’ll just slide back towards the roof. We’ll sit like we are now, and just start moving to the right.” He kissed Ianto on the cheek. “You’ll have to put the gun away, though.”

Ianto put the safety on and tucked the gun into the holster attached to his belt at the small of his back. Jack kept his arm around Ianto as they slid across the beam, Jack keeping up his usual banter to keep Ianto’s mind off of the drop. They stopped so Ianto could catch his breath, and the younger man seemed to be coming back to himself.

“Dignity’s overrated, don’t you think?” he asked as he rolled onto the roof. Jack stood and helped Ianto to his feet, then held him close for several long moments. By now they were both soaked through.

“Can we go back to your place?” Jack asked when he loosened his hold on Ianto.

At Ianto’s nod, Jack led him across the roof, down the service stairs to one of the elevators, down to the lobby, and out to the SUV. They did not notice the older gentleman in an cravat frowning after them.

Jack took Ianto home, where they took a hot shower while waiting for dinner to be delivered. Jack fed Ianto soup and held the younger man, who clung tightly to him. When Ianto fell asleep, Jack went to the kitchen and called the hub. Tosh reported that Mainframe had sensed some sort of psychic breach, but there was no way to trace it or determine its source.

“She says Ianto took the brunt of it,” Tosh said quietly, which made Jack think she was trying to avoid reading Gwen in on the other events of the day. “And then he left very suddenly. Is he all right?”

Jack sighed. “I’m helping to shield him, for now. Once he rests, we’ll get his own defenses reestablished and then he’ll need to rest and recuperate from his loss today, as well as the attack.”

“Anything I can do?” she asked.

“If you or Owen could bring my laptop by in the morning, that’d be great. I’ll work from here and keep an eye on him, in case there are any further attacks.”

“Jack,” Owen spoke up. “I’ll bring it by. I want to look him over, make sure he’s doing all right, physically, after everything.”

“What do you mean by ‘everything’? And what loss?” Gwen could be heard asking in the background.

“Mainframe says there was a psychic attack. I just want to be sure there’s no physical damage,” Owen quickly answered. “See you in the morning, Jack.”

“All right.”

Jack hung up and went back into the living room. He was shocked to see Ianto lying curled up on his side, the gun back in his hand. “Ianto,” he crouched down by the younger man, his voice pitched low. “Can I have the gun, please?” He kicked himself for not taking it back out to the SUV, once they’d dressed after their shower.

Ianto was staring ahead, tears streaming. “It’s gone, Jack.”

“I know.”

“It was a bit of me, and it’s dead, now.”

Jack reached out and ran a hand through Ianto’s hair. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I still think it might have been the bit that _was_ me. Otherwise, why would I feel like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m dead, but still walking around.”

“That’s the shock of it. You need to let yourself heal.”

Ianto clutched the gun more tightly. “Heal?” he wept. “How am I supposed to heal from my heart dying?”

“You will. I know you will. You’re strong. You’re going to be all right.”

“Am I, though? Everyone keeps telling me that, and I keep waiting for it to be true, but then it keeps on _not_ happening.”

“You are. It may take a bit of time, but you are. You have to,” Jack couldn’t keep the panic out of his voice. “Ianto, I need you.”

Ianto finally looked at Jack, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Hasn’t it been better, these past few weeks?” Jack asked, feeling desperate, and a little hurt. “I know it has, for me.”

Ianto blinked, then sniffed. Jack could practically see him step back from the abyss he had been staring into, a few moments before. He removed his hand from the gun, and Jack took it and placed it on the coffee table.

“It has, Jack. For me, as well. I… I’m sorry,” he wept as Jack turned back to him and gathered him into his arms.

“Shhh,” Jack soothed, holding Ianto as he wept.

“No, I hurt you. I can feel it,” Ianto cried harder.

Jack startled, but then realized that with Ianto inside his shielding, the younger man was empathic enough that he could feel Jack’s emotions. “No, I’m all right, Ianto. Mostly I’m hurting for you. And yes, I do hope that the past few weeks have helped you as much as they’ve helped me. But I understand that even if they have, it doesn’t matter right now, because what happened today has trumped all of that, at least in this moment.”

Once Ianto calmed, he slept again, for an hour or so. When he woke, Jack gave him a glass of water, and they headed to bed. Ianto washed his face and climbed in beside Jack, then leaned in to the other man and kissed him.

“What was that for?” Jack smiled.

“You saved my life today,” Ianto offered a hesitant smile, in return.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fairly short chapter. Glad everyone is excited about Mainframe, but just a warning, there won't be more on her for a couple of chapters.
> 
> The Altolusso is the building we see Jack standing on (with the white beams) in the opening credits.
> 
> Next up is Jack freaking out, just a smidge, over Ianto's overwhelm leading to suicidal tendencies. No telling what a desperate man might do...
> 
> I know it might seem like an overreaction, but for someone as powerful as Ianto to suddenly have no defenses against the onslaught of thoughts and emotions from _everyone_ in a mile radius (at least)… It swamped him. Plus, even though he tried to reconstruct something before he panicked and left Mainframe, he still wasn't strong enough to keep from being manipulated and encouraged to end his suffering. (Did you recognize our villain, by the way?)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

Ianto climbed into bed beside Jack, then leaned in to the other man and kissed him.

“What was that for?” Jack smiled.

“You saved my life today,” Ianto offered a hesitant smile, in return.

Jack felt another desperate wave of panic crash over him. While there could have been no other reason for Ianto to be up on the roof of the Altolusso, it was still jarring to have him admit his intentions. “Do you feel any better?”

Ianto nodded. “You were right. I was overwhelmed. Once you shielded me, it was better. But I needed to let it all out.”

“That kind of pain will eat you alive, if you don’t.” Jack gently pushed Ianto onto his back and rolled so he was partially on top of the younger man. “Will you,” he whispered, leaning down and kissing Ianto, softly and deeply. “Will you let me…” he let out a ragged sigh and rested his forehead against Ianto’s, trying to contain the fear still coursing through him.

“What, Jack?” Ianto asked, curious. He felt off-kilter on so many levels. Losing Ffion – no, losing his heart (his original heart) – had hurt so much. Still did. But within the shelter of Jack’s shielding, he could see that the loss of his own defenses was what had truly almost crushed him. Now that he was shielded again, he felt better. But being on (arguably) the wrong side of Jack’s shielding felt like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute.

It was terrifying.

It also felt safe and warm, somehow. He wanted to curl up there and hide until time ended. But it was dangerous, for both of them. For Jack, because Ianto was currently inside his defenses. And for Ianto, because there was every danger of Jack realizing…

“Have you been pretending?” Jack asked, seeming to change tack. “Are you taking care of my heart?” he asked, his voice a low purr. He kissed Ianto, a deep, toe-curling kiss that left the younger man breathless and befuddled.

“Yes,” Ianto breathed. Truthfully, the game had morphed for Ianto, some weeks ago. It started out that Ianto had pretended that the heart had originally been Jack’s. Now it was Jack’s, once more.

“You said earlier that you feel like your original heart was ripped out, when Ffion died,” Jack placed his hand over Ianto’s heart. When Ianto nodded, Jack continued, “Well, maybe it’s time for you to feel _this one_ , beating in your chest.” He kissed Ianto again.

Ianto held onto Jack, overwhelmed by the older man’s passion as it ignited his own. And in the midst of the whirlwind, he found that core of himself. That bit that he had thought resided in his original heart no longer felt scattered due to the psychic confusion of having his original heart beating in the chest of another. It was with him – and it had been, all along. It was _him_ , and it was every part of him, even the new heart and lungs.

It was all _him_ , now.

Jack felt the shift, and the wave of psychic power from Ianto as he became whole, again. Ianto’s mind, his soul, his very _being_ all made up the man he was. Yes, his physicality was a large part of who he was, but one small part of that physicality could never fully define him.

The sensation of so much power building within Jack’s shields elicited a heady feeling. “You asked me to show you,” Jack whispered raggedly. “Will you let me?” He kissed Ianto again, on fire with the need growing between them. “Let me show you my heart,” he entreated, his hand once more on Ianto’s chest.

Ianto was gasping for breath when Jack leaned back, looking for an answer. “Yes,” he exhaled, reaching up to bring Jack close again for another scorching kiss.

It was selfish. Jack knew that what he was about to do was incredibly selfish. But if Ianto could accept Jack’s heart, maybe he’d settle down and stop thinking about killing himself. As it was, he’d leave Jack far too quickly. Jack hated the thought. He was becoming more and more attached to the younger man, and he knew that with that attachment came the inevitability of losing him. But not yet…

_Please, not yet._

If Jack could convince Ianto to treat the heart beating in his chest with as much care as he would treat Jack’s (current) heart, then he’d think twice before self-destructing. Maybe it was dirty pool, but if it kept Ianto alive, what was the downside?

With Ianto inside of his shielding, it was not difficult. Ianto was still too wrecked from the day to sense Jack’s desperation. And it could be argued that Jack didn’t realize precisely what he was doing, either – or the full extent of the repercussions, at the very least.

With a whispered, “Trust me,” Jack secured one of Ianto’s ties around the younger man’s eyes. Then he kissed Ianto, mobilizing all of his psychic abilities and pouring everything into the kiss. It was similar to what he had once done, with Carys when she’d been possessed by the sex gas alien. Though truth be told, he’d put almost no effort or focus into that kiss with Carys.

When he broke the kiss, Jack felt a bit dizzy. Ianto was gasping for breath as the golden glow surrounding him dissipated, and Jack moved the younger man’s hands up to grasp the headboard as he began to kiss and lick and bite every bit of skin he could find. Periodically he would return to kiss Ianto again, forcing more of the energy out, focusing on filling his heart – his _former_ heart, Ianto’s now – with a spark that would show Ianto he was still alive.

Jack kept Ianto on the edge for a torturously long time, ignoring the younger man’s exhaustion, as well as his own. _I need you, Ianto_. Each time, he would bring Ianto almost to completion, only to draw back, placing his hand over Ianto’s heart and making sure the younger man could feel it, pounding in his chest. _Don’t leave me_.

The soft, golden glow had stopped dissipating by the time Jack buried himself in his lover. By that point it had been hours, and they both cried out with the ecstasy of their joining. Jack moved, hard and deep, and Ianto wrapped arms and legs around him, begging for more.

 _Feel me_. Jack moved in Ianto, even as the younger man’s consciousness once more expanded within the confines of Jack’s shielding.

“Jack!” Ianto cried out. He didn’t know what was happening, but he’d never experienced anything so intensely intimate, before. He briefly understood it was because they were moving inside of one another – Jack in Ianto’s body, Ianto in Jack’s mind – and the coupling was visceral and consuming. _I’m here. Can you feel_ me _, Jack?_

Jack gasped and fell forward, his thrusts becoming erratic as he kissed Ianto, again and again. They were both glowing, now, and he couldn’t find it in himself to be concerned. It felt as though all of time and space had collapsed into this one moment, this one bed, this one act.

Jack reached between them and no sooner did he touch Ianto than the younger man was coming with a shout. The force of Ianto’s orgasm tore Jack’s from him, and he emptied himself into Ianto’s body, calling his name. Everything went gold and he collapsed onto Ianto, insensible for a few moments.

As their bodies calmed, Jack saw that the energy with which he had been glowing flowed to Ianto. Likewise, Ianto’s glow seemed to be swirling through his body. Rather than just fading away, as it had with Carys, complicated patterns drew themselves along that luscious skin, seeming to tickle as it danced its way towards Ianto’s heart.

Ianto was still gasping for breath as the energy seemed to settle. Jack watched in wonder as the glow receded from everywhere to where it had gathered at Ianto’s heart, which hammered away, thrumming with energy beneath Jack’s hand.

Jack reached up and pulled the tie from Ianto’s eyes, and realized his lover had checked out on him, again. He got up to go to the bathroom and find a flannel to clean them both up, but growing dizzy, he collapsed onto the floor.

***

Jack gasped back to life less than a minute later. He could tell because the water flowing from the tap he had turned on just before everything faded to black still had not warmed up. He quickly cleaned himself up, surprised that he had depleted his energy to such an extent that he’d actually died. He felt fine, now, though perhaps a bit drained. He turned the water off and hurried in to check on Ianto.

The younger man was beginning to stir. Jack cleaned him up, gently teasing him for breaking a new distance record as he wiped down his collarbone and chest. Once the flannel had been tossed back in the general direction of the bathroom (he’d be scolded for that, later), he climbed back in bed.

“You all right?” he asked.

“That was pretty intense.”

“You checked out on me again.”

Ianto chuckled. “In my defense, it’s been a hell of a day. And I’ve never actually had psychic sex, before.”

Jack chuckled. “Neither have I. Not like that, anyway.” He kissed Ianto slowly and gently. “You are amazing.”

“You’re pretty impressive, yourself,” Ianto chuckled. “Strangest thing. You’ve made my vision white out, before, and you’ve caused me to black out. Never had everything go gold and glowy, before.”

“Gold and glowy, huh?” Jack tried to keep his tone light.

“Mmm,” Ianto nuzzled closer to Jack, holding him close. “Thank you, Jack.”

Jack kissed Ianto’s head and settled closer, smiling as Ianto draped a leg over Jack’s and began breathing deeply and steadily. “Tomorrow we’ll work on getting your shielding back up,” he promised.

***

Jack woke and was startled to see that it was past eight in the morning. He prayed that Owen was not running early, for once. He extricated himself from Ianto and showered and dressed, then went back to wake Ianto. Jack was once more charmed by the sleepy version of his lover.

“Owen’s coming by in a bit.”

Ianto groaned and tried to pull the pillow over his head.

Jack chuckled. “After everything that happened yesterday, he wants to look you over. I think it’s probably a good idea. I thought you might want to shower and dress, and I can fix something for breakfast, before he gets here. And…” he hesitated.

“And it smells like sex in here,” Ianto nodded, sitting up.

“I don’t care if the team knows, but I know you’re a private person.”

Ianto leaned forward and kissed Jack. “Thank you. I don’t mind if they know either, but I don’t want Owen to think you’ve taken advantage.”

Jack blinked. Why would Owen think that? Then he realized. He and Ianto had been very discreet, up until now, though Mainframe knew and Toshiko seemed to have her suspicions. But Owen might think that last night was their first… “Oh. Thank you.”

Ianto got out of the bed and stripped it, carrying everything to the kitchen, where the washer and dryer were tucked away in a closet in the corner. Once that was started, he began making the bed with fresh linens. The fact that he was still naked was doing Jack’s head in (both of them), so he focused on stuffing the pillows into the pillowcases. Mostly.

Once the bed was made, Jack found his way to the kitchen as Ianto showered. By the time Ianto was dressed, Jack had prepared a lovely breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.

“The mushrooms looked a bit iffy,” he said. “I tossed them.”

Ianto nodded. “I’ll add them to my shopping list, then.”

They drank the tea Jack had made to go with breakfast, but once the dishes were cleared and everything was tidied, Ianto made coffee. He pulled down a third mug just as Owen knocked.

Jack smirked. Ianto was usually more subtle, than that. Then the smirk became a genuine smile when he realized how much trust that implied. Jack opened the door and Owen entered, looking around. It was his first time seeing Ianto’s place, and he was curious.

It was a nice flat, in a good neighborhood. Jack imagined it had taken at least half of the government payout. The furnishings must have been from Ianto’s place in London, though. Middle of the road pieces – decent quality, but not quite as nice as the flat. It showed that Ianto didn’t spend money just because he could. He’d kept everything that was still serviceable.

Jack did wonder about the flat, though. It was a bit of an extravagance, given Ianto’s background. But then he realized. Ianto hadn’t believed he was going to make it. Even six months after the transplant, he’d still felt he was on shaky ground, so he figured he’d buy the kind of place he’d always wanted, while he still could.

And it was a gorgeous place, decorated beautifully. Each room had a rich color scheme, from paint to the throw rugs covering the beautifully finished hardwood floors. The furniture was neutral enough that it fit in unobtrusively. The place was light and airy, but with the curtains drawn it could be warm and cozy, as well. The bookcases, and the book, movie, and cd collections were very much Ianto, as was the art on the walls. Not a lot of pieces, but what was there showed a good eye and excellent taste.

“Nice place, Tea Boy,” Owen said as Ianto came out of the kitchen carrying two mugs.

“Thank you,” Ianto said, handing mugs to Jack and Owen and going back to retrieve his own.

“How is he?” Owen asked.

“I think he’s pulling himself back together. I felt like a heel for waking him, but figured it’d do him good to get some food in him, and he can sleep again, once you go.”

“You still shielding him?”

“Yes. After he rests I’ll help him get his own defenses back up.”

Owen nodded. Ianto entered with his coffee, and Owen handed Jack his laptop bag with all the paperwork Toshiko thought he might want, then grabbed his medical bag and looked pointedly at Ianto.

Ianto turned and, without a word, stalked towards his bedroom.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Did Jack just prime the pump, or flood the engine?
> 
> His _intention_ was to help Ianto settle in and accept the new heart, now that the psychic wound from the old one being alive but missing is no longer interfering. But I think he's going to get more than he bargained for...
> 
> Next up is in process, but looks like it will be some ruminating on what just happened, and a tiny bit of information on Mainframe.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

Owen had looked Ianto over and determined that he was all right, though his system was pretty stressed. He was cursing because he’d left his scanner back at the hub, but everything pointed to Ianto being in surprisingly good shape, considering. “I want you to take the next few days off. I’ll come back on Thursday and look you over again, but I imagine I’ll be able to clear you for work by the end of the week.”

“Can’t I just come in and do light duty?” Ianto asked. “If someone is attacking us, wouldn’t it be best for us all to be at the hub?”

Owen looked thoughtful. “Work with Jack and get your shielding back up. Don’t look at me like that, you look done in. Once you’ve reestablished your defenses and get some rest, we might revise that.

“It’s not fair for Jack to be stuck here, babysitting me.”

“I can do paperwork here as well as at the office,” Jack said from the doorway. At Ianto’s distressed look, he added, “Tell you what. Let’s get you shielded and you get some sleep, and if you feel more rested by tomorrow evening, I’ll call Owen in to look you over and see if you can be cleared for light duty on Thursday.”

Owen was nodding. “That sounds reasonable. But only if you’re rested and look a hell of a lot more recovered than you do, right now.”

Ianto huffed, but he really couldn’t argue. He’d seen his own reflection as he’d brushed his teeth that morning, and he looked a few shades paler than death, with terrible dark circles under his eyes that looked like he’d been hit in the nose hard enough to black both eyes.

He looked at Owen for a moment, then asked, “Were you able to look at Ffion’s records?”

Owen nodded. “The poor woman had just about every risk factor working against her. Woman of color with a male donor – right out of the gate, she had that against her, statistically.”

“But she took really good care of herself,” Ianto protested.

“By all accounts, yeah. But she’d been slowly developing an insulin resistance, since the transplant. They reckon she was asymptomatic for chronic rejection. That happens, sometimes. And she had a cytomegalovirus infection. It had been dormant for more than three years, but recently resurged.”

Owen shrugged. “It all just put too much of a strain on her system, and the chronic rejection became acute. The heart was actually in really good shape,” he winced, realizing that was not what Ianto wanted to hear. “But her body just… rejected it.”

“Cause of death?”

“Heart attack. Like I said, the constant strain of her body rejecting it just got to be too much.”

Ianto sniffed, then nodded, eyes on his feet. “Thanks, Owen.”

“Sorry,” Owen said, seeming to be at a loss as to what else to say. It was a strange circumstance.

Once Owen left, Jack bundled Ianto back into bed. He could tell Ianto did not feel well and was taking the news of Ffion Griffiths hard when he confessed that he didn’t want to be alone. So Jack rummaged through Ianto’s bedside table drawer and found a sleep mask and put it on the younger man, then settled in beside him, sitting up with pillows piled behind him and the laptop in front of him.

Ianto fell into a deep, heavy sleep, so the noise of Jack’s typing did not seem to bother him, nor did the doorbell when Toshiko dropped off a pot of soup for their lunch. Ianto did not rouse until mid-afternoon. Jack fixed him a grilled cheese sandwich to go with the soup, and he was relieved to see Ianto eat with relish. Once they cleaned up from the meal, they sat down to plan how best to go about rebuilding Ianto’s psychic defenses.

Ianto wanted to ask Mainframe for help, and he did not understand Jack’s distrust or reluctance.

“Will you tell me why you don’t trust her?” Ianto asked reluctantly, and it killed Jack that his lover felt he was overstepping.

“A while back, she tinkered with some paperwork,” Jack said. He hesitated. Now was definitely not the time to come clean. Ianto was still too vulnerable.

Ianto looked surprised. “Was anyone hurt, because of it?”

“No,” Jack answered slowly. “Actually, a life was saved. But she acted without our knowledge, and it really could have caused some serious issues.”

“Did she tell you why she did it?”

“Oh, she’ll let us know, when the time is right.”

“I hate it when she does that,” Ianto grimaced.

“Yeah.” Jack looked at Ianto for a long moment. “You trust her.”

Ianto shrugged. “She saved my life, that day.”

“How?”

“She told me to convince Hartman to gloat a bit – give the Doctor a tour. Because he was free, he was able to stop… it.”

“How did that save you?”

“It saved everyone who was left, didn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Jack had the impression Ianto was holding something back.

“And she shielded me.”

Jack shook his head. He could only imagine the impact of that day on someone with Ianto’s abilities. “Must have been tough.”

“It’s why yesterday was overwhelming. It put me back there, with the screaming.” Ianto shook his head. “I was overloaded. She hid me, sheltered me. Shielded me, as much as she could. As soon as it was over, I went to find Lisa.”

Jack reached out and squeezed Ianto’s hand.

“And you trust her.” Jack still wasn’t certain.

“Jack, if she wanted me dead, there were any number of opportunities at One. And yesterday. If she’d been the one attacking me, I would have blown my brains out, right there in the hub.”

Jack cringed.

“I’m sorry,” Ianto sighed, “but it’s true. She’s the reason I didn’t.”

“Why’d you run from her?”

“I don’t know. It was just all too much. That’s normally when I run _to_ her. But instead I ran away. And that scares me.”

“Do you have any experience, being more defensive?”

Ianto nodded. “Part of the problem is that I’m out of practice. And I’ve been relaxing my guard, practicing communicating with her, without the interface. But I have a feeling I’m going to be much more in practice, until we figure this one out.” He looked at Jack uncertainly. “I think she can help.”

Jack wavered. On the one hand, Ianto trusted her, and he trusted Ianto’s instincts. On the other, she was responsible for the transplant. He certainly didn’t regret Ianto’s life being saved, and she wasn’t responsible for the death that led to the transplant, but waking up from what seemed to be a fairly straightforward death to realize you’ve been stripped for parts is disconcerting. And painful. It’d taken him days to regain his strength.

She had apologized, at least. Jack appreciated that. It had gone a long way to him forgiving her, and it was pretty much the only reason she hadn’t been powered down and moved into the lowest level of the archive, never to be seen again.

Ianto looked uncertain. She had given him permission to tell Jack about her, but he was worried. Breaking a confidence was not something he took lightly. But he could see Jack struggling.

He sighed. “Okay, look. I don’t know that much about her, really. But here’s what I can tell you. She’s sentient.”

“We knew that.”

“But she’s not a computer.”

Jack frowned.

“That is, she hasn’t always been a computer. Her consciousness is housed in a very sophisticated data core.”

“How?”

Ianto frowned. “I’m not entirely sure I understand it all. Something happened in the 51st century. She was meant to die, but her consciousness was captured in a neural relay.”

“A data ghost?” Jack frowned.

“Yes. But she was saved and uploaded to a massive data core. She spent some years there, fairly content. But then she got restless. Figured out a way to separate from the rest of the data core – found the housing she’s in, now. Once she was a bit more… portable…” he hesitated when Jack laughed.

“That housing is not really what I’d call portable.”

“But it’s not the core of a planet, either.”

Jack’s eyes grew wide. He was beginning to wonder if Ianto was talking about the Library. The timeline would be about right.

“Anyway, she spent a long time doing the calculations and judging the risk before deliberately tossing herself into the rift, in hopes of getting closer to… something. Says she mostly succeeded.”

“Ianto,” Jack asked hesitantly. “Do you think she was once human?”

Ianto nodded. “I do. But something more than that, I think.”

Jack blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she talks about traveling through time and space. And she knew the TARDIS. I think she would have tried to reach out to her, but the Daleks were too close. And she seems to know an awful lot about timelines.”

“Will you…” Jack hesitated. “Can you tell me her name?”

“Melody.”

“Just Melody?”

“For now,” Ianto shrugged. “She says there’s another name, one people would more readily recognize. But it’s not time to tell us, yet.”

“Well that sort of implies that her past is our future, doesn’t it?”

Ianto shrugged. “Or her past is in your past.”

“I don’t remember anyone named Melody. No one associated with the Doctor, anyway. But I didn’t travel with him all that long, when it comes down to it.”

Ianto blinked, and Jack’s head snapped around. They locked eyes for a moment, then Ianto gave an amused smile. “Oops,” he chuckled. It wasn’t like he hadn’t suspected. Hartman had been all over the idea, but she could never get any proof. She had suspected other things as well – things she had not shared with Ianto – but she had always considered Jack to be a dangerous man.

Ianto knew that, of course. But whereas Hartman had found that fact threatening, Ianto found it comforting. He felt safe with Jack. Even now, having learned so much about Jack, and knowing he’d barely scratched the surface, it only made him want to know more. Where some would turn away from the darkness Jack carried, Ianto wanted to step into it, take Jack’s hand, and let him know that he wasn’t alone, in the dark.

Not anymore.

Ianto still felt dizzy when he thought of what had happened between them, the night before. It had been incredibly intense, and even a bit frightening, but he now felt more settled than he had since before Canary Wharf fell.

He felt terrible that Ffion was gone, but the previous night had given him a new clarity. He now realized that as long as his original heart beat somewhere outside of his own chest, he was going to suffer its absence. He had been caught in a psychic tug-of-war between his original heart and his new one. It had kept him from being grounded, from fully inhabiting his own physicality.

With Jack’s help, Ianto was now fully seated in his body, for the first time in two years. It felt strange and wonderful and frightening, all at once. And he realized just how exhausted he was, from the strain. But even in his fatigue, he was able to appreciate what had happened.

He had scared Jack. To the point that the older man had panicked, a bit. Ianto knew full well that Jack’s confession that he needed Ianto would never have slipped out, if not for that panic. And as much as Jack’s declaration warmed Ianto, he was working hard to keep himself in check. Jack needing Ianto was _not_ the same as…

“I trust you,” Jack interrupted Ianto’s train of thought, a small smile gracing his lips. “You’re right, I didn’t mean to say that, but I think you might have suspected. And I don’t want to not tell you… things.”

“Hartman suspected,” Ianto admitted. “And you know an awful lot. And your stories. I know you’ve travelled. What I can’t figure out is why you stopped.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll tell you that one. Just not today, all right?”

Ianto nodded, and Jack just somehow _knew_ that he didn’t believe him. He couldn’t blame him, really. There were just too many things Jack hadn’t told Ianto yet, and the younger man was intuitive enough to realize that. But his default was to assume it was because he did not deserve to know, rather than Jack simply wasn’t ready to tell him, yet.

Jack reached out and took Ianto’s hand. “I mean it, you know.”

Ianto nodded again, and it was a noncommittal gesture. “But you don’t have to. I’m not asking that of you, Jack. I want you to feel safe, here. Free from the expectation of revealing every little thing, whether you want to, or not.”

Jack pulled Ianto into his arms and kissed him deeply. The freedom Ianto was offering was such a gift. And ironically, it made Jack want to spill every secret, knowing that they would all be safe with this beautiful man. Here, with Ianto, Jack was free to just be himself. To not have to explain, justify, or excuse himself. The others seemed to feel that Jack owed it to them, to tell more than he wanted, in some cases more than he _could_.

Without even having to explain about timelines or paradoxes or simply the fact that some things were personal, even to Jack, Ianto just seemed to know. It lifted such a burden from Jack’s shoulders, and he felt such gratitude that it was some few minutes before they were in any way ready to tackle Ianto’s shielding.

They eventually got around to it, after another short nap and a shower. They spent several hours on it, after Jack finally agreed to enlist Melody’s help. She seemed pleased that Jack now knew her name, but asked that he not share it with the others, just yet.

With Melody guiding them, Jack helped Ianto rebuild his defenses. The older man was impressed by the power and skill Ianto displayed. Yes, he was out of practice, but he easily remembered what he needed to do in order to protect himself from another attack.

Only once they were done did Jack remove his shielding from Ianto. The younger man gave him a shy, grateful smile. “Thank you, Jack.”

Jack kissed Ianto’s forehead. “You’re welcome.”

Ianto closed his eyes and leaned his head back, feeling his edges. He frowned. “Jack, I think something has been rattling your cage, as well.”

Jack nodded. He’d been wondering, but it was subtle enough for him to be unsure. “Could be. I’ll have to step up my own practices, as well.”

They ate dinner in silence, but stayed close to one another. Having regained their independence, it was good to have clear boundaries, again. But having experienced an entirely new intimacy with one another, they were reluctant to relinquish it, entirely.

Their joining that night was slow and unhurried, calm and sedate after the previous night’s desperation and panic. And as they drifted off, Jack draped over Ianto like a cozy blanket, a new level of trust had been established.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so that's Mainframe's story - I'm _so_ excited that it's finally been revealed, now. For those who are not Doctor Who fans, Mainframe was once a human (human _plus_ \- conceived on the TARDIS while traveling through the time vortex). Melody Pond, aka River Song, child of the TARDIS. One of my favorite Doctor Who characters - she and the Doctor met out of order, so the first time he met her was the last time she'd see him. She sacrificed herself for him, but because he knew it would happen (timey-wimey), he found a way to save her consciousness. The end of that episode showed her happily living in the data core, but this is _River Song_. I can't see her satisfied with just staying in that one place, permanently. So here she is, living through the same years again, on the same planet as her younger self - you know Mels is causing trouble in Leadworth, not too far away.
> 
> Okay, so I'm excited. Hope everyone enjoys this - it's another bridge, of sorts, but there's some important information being revealed. Next up I'll likely gloss over "Out of Time" and "Combat", and do a lead-in to "Captain Jack Harkness".
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	12. Chapter 12

As it turned out, Owen did not need to clear Ianto for work prematurely. The young archivist embarked on another marathon of sleep that lasted several days. Jack stayed with him the whole time, his concerns only partially assuaged by the apparent success of re-establishing Ianto’s psychic defenses. The others took turns dropping off paperwork and food for the two, understanding the gravity of the attack, particularly as it had taken down one of the strongest of the team.

Unfortunately, Owen and Toshiko had been forced to tell Gwen about Ianto’s transplant when she saw Owen’s research regarding Ffion Griffiths on his computer. They continued to debate whether to tell Jack that the cat was out of the bag, but Owen convinced Tosh that it was best to keep it to themselves, for the time being.

Jack watched over Ianto, relieved that the younger man was sleeping. He woke him at regular intervals to be sure he ate. The fact that a sleepy Ianto was the world’s most potent aphrodisiac meant that he got some exercise, as well.

The manner of waking Ianto varied, depending on Jack’s mood, but Ianto was often well on his way to climax by the time he fully wakened. As he regained his strength, it might even be the first of several.

Ianto had no complaints.

As he recovered, he spent more time awake, but Jack stayed close. Ianto’s grief was palpable. Jack accompanied him to Ffion’s memorial service, and held him as he wept – not only for the pain of the psychic wound but the loss of someone he had come to see as a friend.

By the following Monday, Owen had cleared Ianto to return to work, though he was limited to light duty for another day or two, for observation. Ianto was diligent in watching his shielding, and was able to discern that someone was testing its strength. He worked with Melody on layering the shielding to ensure a false front – the outer shielding would seem as vulnerable as always, but the inner defenses were well nigh impregnable.

He and Jack practiced this, as well. Surprisingly, Jack was out of practice enough that he could not do the layering. Ianto was able to get past his defenses several times, which concerned them both. Melody and Ianto both worked with him on refining his skills, but Ianto was worried that something would get past Jack’s defenses.

In one of their practice sessions later that week, Ianto wanted to know if he could withstand a stronger attack, and Jack reluctantly agreed to try. After a great deal of battering, he shattered the outer layer of Ianto’s shielding, but the inner core held.

“That was everything I had,” Jack said, rubbing his head. It ached with the effort, but he was pleased to see how strong Ianto’s defenses were. It served to calm some of his panic.

Ianto was rubbing his head, as well. Losing the outer shields had given him a terrible headache, but it had been worth it. “Good. Pretty sure I’m done for the day.”

“It felt like it did, when they came down before,” Jack remarked. He was unwilling to say more, but his hope was if Ianto was attacked again the perpetrator would believe they had succeeded, but Ianto would still be protected. “But we’re not done. Let me help you rebuild.”

Later that week a plane flew through the rift, carrying three lost souls from 1953. Ianto could tell that Jack really seemed to sympathize with John Ellis. He wondered why, but decided that he didn’t need to know. He only knew that his lover was hurting, and it brought him out of his own grief.

When Jack helped John Ellis die, Ianto was alone in the hub. He felt that strange palpitation, which he had not felt in ages. A few minutes later, he felt the disconcerting _thump_ that always followed.

It happened three more times, leaving Ianto weak and shaken on the couch, still waiting for Jack to call. About a half hour after the last _thump_ , he got up when he heard the cog wheel door open. Jack came through, looking haggard and smelling of exhaust fumes.

Ianto took him in hand, relieving him of his coat and helping him to shower. He vaguely wondered what had happened, but he was patient and knew not to require Jack to speak before he was ready. Once Jack was cleaned up, Ianto put him to bed, kissing his forehead and saying, “Get a little sleep. I’ll get us something to eat and take care of everything.”

He had guessed that John was gone. He could even guess how, given Jack’s non-response when he asked about his car, and the stink of fumes everywhere. Once Jack was asleep (and why was he so pale and weak?), Ianto took the greatcoat to the cleaners, then returned via the garage, retrieving John’s body from the boot of the SUV.

After John was interred (Ianto doubted an autopsy would be required – he could always be pulled back out if Jack or Owen decided it was necessary), Ianto called for take-away and finished the paperwork. Then he incinerated Jack’s clothes and retrieved the freshly cleaned greatcoat on his way back to the hub from picking up their dinner.

It was Ianto’s turn to hold Jack as he grieved. Ianto hated his lover’s pain, but he refused to turn away from it. He held on, even as Jack’s despair frightened him.

“Sometimes I hate it here. So much,” Jack whispered. “It just won’t _end_ , Ianto. It never ends, and I’m so tired.”

“I know,” Ianto soothed, running his hand through Jack’s hair.

Had anyone else told Jack that, he would have dismissed it as a pretty (but annoying) platitude. But Ianto truly understood Jack’s despair, possibly better than most. It was what he’d felt during that long year, as his body failed him after Canary Wharf. And it was what he’d still felt, even after the transplant, feeling like he was missing something vital.

Ianto understood, and it was that comprehension that helped Jack to hold on. He was able to pull himself back together, because knowing that someone understood meant he was not completely alone in the world.

Jack attempted to offer Owen that same understanding after the doctor climbed into a cage with a weevil, but he was not in a place where he could comprehend the fact that he was not alone in his pain.

The uptick in rift activity meant that none of them had the time to realize they were being manipulated…

***

A few days later, as Jack and Ianto woke in Jack’s bunker, arms and legs and bodies still entwined from the previous night’s frantic reacquainting (the rift had kept them busy, and it had been _days_ ), they kissed lazily as sleep slowly left them.

“I love you,” Ianto whispered, kissing Jack again.

It had just slipped out. Really, it had. But it had become such a basic truth for Ianto, it could no more be denied than his attraction to Jack.

Jack froze, and Ianto leaned back, smiling ruefully. “Keep breathing, Sir. Don’t panic. This doesn’t really change anything.”

Jack tried to pull away, but Ianto held firmly to him. “It changes everything, Ianto.”

“But why?” he asked blithely. “It doesn’t have to. I’m not asking anything of you, Jack. You don’t even have to acknowledge that I’ve said it, much less respond in any way.” He leaned up and kissed Jack again.

Jack pulled away, breathless. “Why would you be willing to do that?”

A smile quirked on Ianto’s lips. “Because I love you, ya twpsyn. But you’re…” he sighed. “Jack, you’re like the sun. It would be foolish to expect to be the only planet in your orbit.”

“But don’t you want monogamy?” Jack frowned. He knew that was what Ianto wanted. Ianto wanted to be with the one he loved. And (until now, at least) he only loved one person at a time.

Ianto looked steadily at Jack and refused to fall into the trap. “This is nothing to do with my preferences, other than the strong desire to be with you.” He shrugged. “And I’m willing for that to be on your terms.”

“Ianto,” Jack frowned.

“Jack,” Ianto sighed. “You know how this job is – even if I’m not in the field, odds are I won’t make it to thirty.” He reached up and tried to kiss away the grief that flashed across Jack’s face. “And that’s okay. What we do here is important. And given how crazy our lives are, I don’t think that my choice is any stranger than most.”

“Your choice being…” Jack almost didn’t want Ianto to answer. This was the worst kind of trap. Ianto might be willing to make these promises now, when everything was fresh and wonderful. But he’d get tired of not being Jack’s only choice. He’d get tired of not being Jack’s first choice.

Not that Jack wanted anyone else. Ianto was Jack’s first and only choice at the moment, but he knew his tendency to fall in love – quickly and frequently – made this unfair to Ianto.

Not that he’d fallen in love in decades. And not that he couldn’t do monogamy. But the idea scared him senseless, and he could only wish to be far away from the beguiling creature lying in his arms, just so he could _think_ for a moment.

Ianto chuckled. “Actually, I suppose I do ask _one_ thing.” He laughed outright as Jack tensed. “I ask to be allowed to be a small moon, reflecting your light. Just let me love you, Jack. Let me take care of you. And every now and then,” he reached down and took hold of Jack, eliciting a gasp as he pulled and twisted, _just so_ , “let me love on you.”

As they came up from air from another breathtaking kiss, Jack nodded jerkily. “I can do that,” he rasped.

***

For the next few days, Jack paid attention. Very close attention. And he discovered something amazing. Ianto had meant what he’d said. He asked nothing of Jack, and yet he gave everything. It was amazing, but it also broke his heart that the younger man was willing to settle for less than what he truly wanted, because he didn’t think he deserved to ask for more.

But giving Ianto what he wanted would be so easy. It would be incredibly simple, to just let himself fall. And who was he kidding? He’d already fallen. But when the Doctor showed up, Jack would leave with him. And that wasn’t fair to Ianto, either. But Jack needed to know what was wrong with him. And he had stayed on this planet for _so long_.

He wanted to travel again. He wanted to explore the unknown. He wanted to dive into mysteries he had not yet fathomed. He wanted to live and laugh and love. He wanted to be important. He wanted to know that he mattered, if only to one person. He wanted to love and be loved…

 _Oh_.

It’s a frightening thing, to have something you want within your reach. It could be argued that the fear such a thing can inspire can completely decimate one’s ability to think clearly, or act rationally.

So Jack began distancing himself from Ianto. He began flirting a bit more – mostly with Gwen. He ignored the reproachful looks Ianto sent his way, because of course the younger man knew what he was doing.

But still he was there. He helped Jack on with his coat and brought him coffee and helped in all those countless ways with the running of the hub. And in the evenings, he gave Jack his space. He brought the last cup of coffee to Jack, and when he was ignored or dismissed, he went home.

It hurt. Of course it hurt. Melody fumed, but she kept her opinions to herself when Ianto told her she was hurting him, even more. But he knew Jack would come around. The man who had taken such good care of him on so many occasions was a man he knew he could count on. He had faith in Jack. Jack would come around, and then maybe they could give this a go.

What Ianto could not know was that Jack (and the rest of the team) had been compromised. It had happened so slowly and subtly after the initial attack on Ianto that even Melody had not detected it. But their modest defenses had been stripped away, and though he was the strongest of them, where he could now withstand an outside attack, he was not prepared for an assault from within.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready to go down the rabbit hole?


	13. Chapter 13

Ianto was puttering around the hub. Jack had taken Toshiko to investigate an anonymous complaint about strange music at an abandoned dance hall where there had been recent rift activity. Gwen was who knew where, and Owen was crashed on the couch. All of a sudden, Ianto felt a strange tugging in his chest.

He whooped in a breath, relieved to notice that the sharpness of the feeling had faded almost immediately, leaving behind it an odd sort of… loneliness. The rift monitor began sounding, and soon Owen was by his side, complaining about the noise.

Ianto explained about the rift being more active of late as he tried to reach Tosh’s mobile. He sighed as he ended the call. The line was dead.

Owen looked at Ianto. “You all right?”

Ianto looked surprised. “Fine. Why?”

“You’re rubbing your chest.”

Ianto jerked his hand away, straightening his tie. “It’s nothing.”

Owen grabbed his scanner, just the same. Readings showed some stress, but nothing worrisome. Still… He wondered if something had happened to Jack. They had been able to confirm that Ianto did seem to sense something, when Jack died. But it had not happened frequently enough for them to have a good handle on just what Ianto experienced, never mind how.

Ianto sent Gwen to look for Jack and Tosh as Owen found his way into Tosh’s files. He looked at the data from the day Diane flew back into the rift. “I had to let her go.”

“You were in love with her, weren’t you?” Ianto asked, his face sympathetic.

“If Tosh knows a way of opening the rift, maybe we can get Diane back.”

“Jack would never allow it. Opening the rift could devastate the city.” Owen walked away from him, and Ianto frowned. Owen knew this. He knew the dangers, as well as anyone.

Gwen returned to the hub a while later, saying the caretaker had let her take a look around, and she had heard the music, but there had been no sign of Jack and Tosh. Ianto had found information in the archives on the Ritz, and he and Owen were poring through it, trying to find something useful.

“Right,” Owen said, shoving a stack of folders across the table to Gwen. “The Ritz dance hall opened in 1932, shut down in 1989. Due to be demolished in one week. Now, the reported music is from the 1940’s.”

Ianto tapped a few keys to bring up the digital archive from the appropriate time period. He began scrolling through the photos. “All those young soldiers,” he said, frowning at the thought of how many of them didn’t make it through the war. He scrolled past a photo, but his breath caught and he brought it back up. “Owen, look there.”

It was a photo of four people. A handsome-faced man in uniform, an older gentleman in a cravat, Jack, and Toshiko. Ianto read the caption. _Names listed, left to right: Captain Jack Harkness, 133 rd Squadron; Bilis Manger, Manager of the Ritz; Captain James Harper, 71st Squadron; Miss Toshiko Sato, Mathematician._

“James Harper,” Ianto muttered, rubbing his chest again. “That name.” He frowned. It had to be a coincidence.

“Isn’t that Jack’s go-to undercover identity?” Gwen asked, her eyes wide.

Ianto was still staring at the clipping, oblivious to the pointed look Owen gave Gwen. The two had been having the same argument, ever since Gwen found out that Ianto had received Jack’s heart and lungs. She thought the archivist had a right to know, but Owen didn’t want Jack to know that they had told her – he had specifically ordered them not to do so. Owen had held their affair over her head as a way of keeping her from making her case to Jack. Now she was apparently attempting an end run.

“What?” Ianto turned and looked from one to the other, Gwen’s words having finally sunk in. “What did you say?” he asked, looking more disconcerted than Gwen had ever seen him.

“Focus, Tea Boy,” Owen said sharply. “Looks like Jack and Tosh slipped back in time. And met the Jack Harkness that we already knew about.” At Gwen’s confused look, he reminded her of the day she first started with Torchwood, when they told her that the only reference to the name ‘Jack Harkness’ was someone from the war.

“Wait,” Gwen said, taking a better look at the clipping on the screen. “That’s the caretaker! Bilis Manger – that’s his name. That’s the man I just met!” she exclaimed, pointing at the picture.

“He’s the answer,” Owen declared. “He’s come through the rift. We need to find out what he’s doing.”

“Maybe this is a trap. He could be sucking us back through time, one by one,” Ianto said, suspicious.

“I’m sorry,” Owen didn’t look the least bit sorry, “but who exactly put you in charge?” He jumped up from the table and ran out to the hub, digging around under the grated flooring and pulling up cables.

“What are you doing?” Ianto asked, following. Gwen stood back, frowning.

“We haven’t got the missing numbers. We’ll have to improvise with the rift manipulator.”

Ianto tried to talk Owen out of it. They argued at length, and Ianto was not proud to suggest that Diane had left, of her own accord. Owen had not appreciated the barb, upping the ante by mentioning Ianto’s dead fiancé. In the end, Owen’s plan didn’t work. There was a piece missing from the rift manipulator. “Good,” Ianto said, relieved. “Jack would never have wanted us to use it this way.”

“There’s a piece missing. We’ve got to find it.”

“Maybe you should go home,” Ianto said quietly. “Owen, I think we’re still being manipulated. What if you’re compromised?”

“You don’t have any power over me,” Owen said, but he frowned. “Okay, Ianto,” he conceded, with his usual lack of grace. “We’ll play it your way. Safe,” he sneered as he walked past Ianto. “And boring.”

Gwen, who had been watching, decided to go back to the Ritz to try to find any other pieces of the formula that Tosh might have found a way to leave. Owen left with her, offering another set of eyes with the search, and so they could watch each other’s backs around Bilis Manger.

Gwen found part of the formula, but when Ianto fed it into the computer it proved incomplete. He told Gwen he needed more.

Owen, however, found what appeared to be the missing piece from the rift manipulator. Rather than question why Bilis Manger had possession of it, he pocketed it and left Gwen to her search, forgetting that they had agreed to stick together. By the time he returned to the hub, Gwen had found another of Tosh’s equations, but it was incomplete – deliberately scratched out, this time.

“We’re being herded,” Ianto muttered. “Owen, you have to see that.”

Owen held up the manipulator key. “Bilis had it, all along.”

“We still don’t have the equation.”

“Maybe the machine can work it out.” Owen placed the key in the manipulator, but it still failed to work.

Ianto fought Owen as he opened the safe, cursing his lack of authority and Owen’s lack of respect. Ultimately, Owen searched Jack’s secure archives and found the blueprints for the rift manipulator.

“It’s a trap!” Ianto shouted. “Bilis wanted you to find it.”

“Why?” Owen paused, but only for a moment.

“To provoke the rift. To incite total chaos and destruction. All the reports of the haunted dance hall were anonymous. What if it was him? _Please_ , listen to me!”

Owen grew pig-headed. “I’m tired of being in awe of the rift. I’m tired of living with Jack’s secrets. We don’t even know who he is!”

“He’s our leader!”

“Not any more. Get out of my way, Ianto.”

He tried to push past the younger man, and they fought. Ianto was out of practice, with sparring. Not that he’d had that much training, to begin with. Owen quickly knocked the wind out of him. Considering he’d felt off since the rift monitor had sounded after Jack and Tosh disappeared, he wasn’t surprised. But then Owen kicked him, while he was down. It was a strange feeling, having a rib cracked over a new set of lungs that felt vulnerable – yes, likely it felt they were more vulnerable than they actually were, but still.

Not a good feeling.

He willed himself to get up, to stand and go to the armoury. Now his lungs hurt as badly as his heart. The strange feeling had only magnified, as the day had progressed. Something was wrong, and he could only hope that he could stay upright long enough to get through this crisis. “Melody,” he asked, his voice rough, “the hub has been compromised. For a while, now. When?”

_It’s difficult to say. It could coincide with the arrival of those from 1953._

“That definitely seems to have served as a catalyst,” he acknowledged. He grabbed a gun and found Owen, working with the rift manipulator. “Put the key down, or I’ll shoot.” He levelled the gun at Owen. _Jesus fucking Christ, how had it come to this?_ “You have to let Diane go, like I did, with Lisa.”

“Don’t compare yourself to me. You’re just the tea boy.”

“I’m much more than that,” Ianto declared. “Jack needs me.” Even as he said it, he knew he’d tipped his hand and given Owen something to use against him. He checked his shielding and was surprised to find the outer layer resembled Swiss cheese.

“In your dreams, Ianto. In your sad, wet dreams when you’re his part-time shag, maybe. Shit, how much of a narcissist does a man have to be, to go for the man who got his heart in a freak transplant?”

“What?” Ianto’s pulse kicked up a notch, and he didn’t know why. What Owen had said made no sense. Well, part of it made no sense. The other part hurt like hell.

“Jack can’t die, Ianto,” Owen sneered. “Well, he can’t stay dead, at any rate. So one night, he died. And you got his heart. And now he chases after you, because, what? You’re that lost piece of himself? Maybe. He’s infatuated enough with himself, that’s for sure. But then again, maybe he just knows you’re an easy piece of arse.”

“What?” Ianto repeated, still not comprehending what Owen was saying. Tellingly, the gun did not waver in his hand, though.

“Jack. Can’t. Die,” Owen repeated slowly, taking cruel pleasure in twisting the knife. “He was undercover as James Harper, and he died. You got his heart, he re-grew it, and then came back to life.”

“You… you knew this? That Jack was… that Jack was James Harper?”

“Of course I knew. We all did. Tosh, Suzie, even Gwen knows,” he smiled maliciously as he saw the color drain from Ianto’s face. “What, you thought that transplant was some super-secret thing?”

“I thought my medical history was confidential, yes,” Ianto growled, still pointing the gun at Owen.

“Well, think again,” Owen chuckled. “This is Torchwood.”

Ianto felt as though he was being dismantled. “So Jack is immortal, and this heart,” he pointed to his chest with the pistol, “was originally his.” He frowned. “So that’s what that weird thing is? I feel it, when he dies?”

“Sucks being psychic,” Owen snarked. “Look. The rift took my lover. And my captain,” he noticed Ianto’s flinch and knew the kid didn’t have the balls to shoot. That would trap Jack in 1941. Tea Boy certainly didn’t want that. He sneered again, “So if I die trying to beat it, then it will all be in the line of duty.” He turned to fit the key into the rift manipulator.

Ianto hesitated, but then thought of the havoc wreaked when Torchwood One meddled with things they had no idea about. He took careful aim and pulled the trigger. Owen cried out in shock and pain, but was able to fit the key into the manipulator and get it to work.

Ianto thought about pulling the trigger again. He really did. Part of him wanted to. He knew that Owen had just up-ended his entire existence. And if they survived… Ianto wasn’t certain he wanted to survive. But still, the world…

“You don’t know what you’ve done,” he declared. At Owen’s mulish look, he grew angry. “Don’t you get it, Owen? This is exactly how One fell. Fucking around with things they didn’t understand.”

“And you think you understand, Tea Boy?”

“Better than you. Clearly,” Ianto lowered the gun and turned away. The strange feeling in his chest suddenly subsided, a lovely, expansive sensation blossoming in its place. He sucked in a deep breath and headed back to the armoury. “Guess Jack and Tosh are back,” he muttered, hearing Gwen shouting confirmation over the comms a few moments later.

By the time Ianto had cleaned the weapon and locked it back in the armoury, the others had returned. He felt shaky as Jack took in the state of the hub. “Welcome back, Sir, Toshiko. Coffee?”

Jack gave him an odd look, but nodded curtly before turning to Owen. “Report.”

By the time coffee was prepared and handed around, Jack asked Ianto for his report. He did so in the middle of the hub, and Ianto wondered if this was for effect, or so everything would be in the open, with the team. He was succinct.

“My outer shielding is in tatters. I could only assume everyone has been compromised. I still believe it was a trap.”

“And you were willing to risk stranding Toshiko and me in 1941, on that hunch?” Jack asked. He was trying to keep his voice neutral, but he didn’t know how he felt about that. He was proud of Ianto for making the tough call, despite his personal feelings, but it still hurt…

Ianto raised his chin in defiance. “If Cybermen and Daleks could slip through the void between dimensions, what could come through the rift, if we destabilize it enough? This was my absolute worst nightmare, come to life. Losing people I care about, as Torchwood falls around our ears under the weight of its own hubris.”

Jack blinked. Then he looked at Ianto. Really looked at him. The younger man was absolutely wrecked. What the hell had happened here today? Was he right? Had the entire team been compromised?

“Fucking coward,” Owen growled. “Everything’s fine.”

“Owen, enough,” Jack said. He turned to Ianto. “You did the right thing, Ianto.” He reached out to pat Ianto’s arm reassuringly, but the younger man flinched and twisted away, avoiding Jack’s touch as he went back to the computer to continue his search for Bilis Manger.

Jack frowned after him. He watched the team. Gwen offered to feed Janet and Myfanwy. Toshiko helped Owen patch up his shoulder. They were muttering under their breath and shooting nasty looks in Ianto’s direction. Jack sighed. He’d hoped that debriefing Ianto in front of the others would help them to understand. It had certainly helped Jack to understand. To remember…

Owen had finished patching himself up when he decided to have another go. “I knew we did the right thing, opening the rift. World didn’t end after all, did it?”

“We’ll see,” Ianto shot him a glare. He turned back to the monitor. “Still no sign of Bilis.” Why was he the only one concerned about a man who could slip through time more easily than the Doctor?

“Good job you’re a crap shot.”

“I was _aiming_ for your shoulder,” Ianto pointed out.

Toshiko tried to deflect the conversation, which led to another deflection, from Jack. She joined him for a drink, toasting Captain Jack Harkness. When she came back out to the main part of the hub, she felt a dark anger rising. Who did Ianto think he was, to try to strand them in the past?

She went back to lean against Owen’s desk. “The historical Jack Harkness was something else,” she said dreamily.

Owen looked sharply at her. “That so?”

“Hmm,” she smiled. “Jack… Our Jack, that is… He fell _hard_.” She smirked in satisfaction as Ianto’s shoulders stiffened as her words hit their mark.

Owen grinned, catching on to her game. He sometimes forgot how evil Toshiko could be, when crossed. “Finally found someone worthy of him, did he?”

Tosh nodded. “Oh, yes. And,” she giggled. “He actually asked if Jack and I were together.” She took a vicious kind of pleasure in delivering the next words. “But Jack told him that there was no one.”

Ianto cast a glance over at Tosh, and for a moment he didn’t recognize her. “Guess that’s me told,” he said flippantly. He snorted in derision and turned back to the monitor, where Melody was messaging him.

_Ignore them. They are compromised, and are trying to get past your inner defenses. These are not your teammates’ words._

Ianto shook his head. **Actually, they are their words. It’s their filters that have been compromised, not their opinions. Now I know what they really think of me.**

_Ianto..._

**Doesn't matter, Melody.**

Moving slowly and deliberately, he rolled his sleeves back down, buttoned his waistcoat, and straightened his tie. Then he put on his jacket. He headed to Jack’s office. “Would you like another coffee, before I go, Sir?”

“No thanks,” Jack shook his head. “You all right, Ianto?”

Ianto bit back the snark and just sighed. “It’s been an enlightening day, Jack.” And because he was a stupid fucking idiot prat, he added, “I’m sorry for your loss, Sir. I’ll get the hub straight in the morning.”

With that, he left. He didn’t see Jack sitting there with his mouth hanging open.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now Ianto knows...
> 
> Everyone is compromised, but imagine my surprise when Gwen came out of this one entirely blameless! And who knew Tosh could be such a meanie?
> 
> Lots of dialogue lifted from episode "Captain Jack Harkness".
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

Before the hour was out, Jack had been through all of the CCTV footage. Ianto now knew everything about James Harper and his heart transplant, and had been told in the cruelest, most malicious way possible.

He had also been told that he meant nothing to Jack. Even Jack’s actions back in 1941 seemed to confirm that, and he frowned at the uncharacteristic behavior of both Owen and Toshiko.

He could see why Ianto was convinced that they were compromised. Owen had worked very hard to protect Ianto, only to turn around and use the information against him when the team was at its most vulnerable. And Tosh… she was Ianto’s friend, and yet she’d taken apparent delight in hurting him. He’d have to speak to both of them about looping Gwen in, against his express orders. But that would have to be later.

As for himself… he shook his head. He had been behaving like an idiot, ever since Ianto had told him he loved him. He was heartily ashamed. Ianto had asked for nothing in return, and as unfair as _that_ was (and Jack should have objected – the question was, why _hadn’t_ he?), Jack had behaved like a complete and utter arse, flirting with Gwen and pushing his lover away.

And then, in 1941… Jack sighed. He wasn’t sure what had happened – it had been as though he’d been sucked into some sort of emotional quagmire. He’d become convinced that they were stuck there, and he’d have to take the slow path through the twentieth century. _Again_. He’d have to watch Toshiko be persecuted, grow old, and die before they made it back to their friends.

He’d given up, and so when the other Jack had asked him about Tosh, he’d told the man that there was no one. Not because he didn’t care about Ianto, but because Ianto was almost seven decades away. Jack was sure he had lost him, and his head was spinning.

And now he could see that Ianto had been right. They’d all been compromised, in one way or another. Torn down, dismantled, and manipulated. And the one member of the team still clear-eyed enough to see what was happening had been beaten, bullied, and abused.

He went to Ianto’s flat, but there was no answer when he knocked. He was about to let himself in when someone spoke to him from the stairs. “Hello, is he not in, then?”

Jack turned to see a young woman of about thirty years with dark hair and Ianto’s eyes. “You’re Rhiannon,” he smiled.

“And you’re Jack,” she didn’t.

“Uh,” Jack was at a loss as to where her hostility might be coming from. What had Ianto told her? There was so little that he _could_ have told her. He really didn’t want to Retcon Ianto’s sister. “I wanted to check on him. We all had a tough day, today.”

She crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive manner. “Look, I’m read in, okay?” At Jack’s startle, she held out a hand in a placating gesture. “He was one of the only survivors, when the Tower fell at Canary Wharf. For those who chose to remember, families had to be read in, to a certain extent.” She canted her head at him. “You’re the director of Torchwood, now. Shouldn’t you know this?”

Jack stared at his feet. Yes, he _should_ know this. But he had washed his hands of it all. “Just what do you know?” he asked instead, his hostility deflecting hers.

“Just that he works at Torchwood Three, here in Cardiff. When we were read in, we were told there had been four branches,” she added quickly. “One fell that day, Two is in Scotland, but seems to be mostly for storage. Three is here in Cardiff, and Four somehow went missing.” She snorted. “Whatever. I just want to know what happened to Ianto, today.”

“What do you mean?”

“He called to tell me he loved me,” she said, her eyes becoming wet. “I can count on one hand the number of times he’s done that, and each time, he thought he was going to…” she trailed off with a sniff. “Where’s my brother?”

Jack frowned. He tapped his comms. “Tosh, can you trace Ianto?” He shook his head at her answer, a few moments later. He looked at Rhiannon. “His phone’s in his flat. Do you have a key?”

Rhiannon stepped past him and banged on the door. “Ianto? Answer the door, Love, or I’m letting myself in. You’ve got,” she held up her wrist, looking at her watch. “Two minutes. And also, Jack is here.”

Jack was tempted to laugh at the apparent Jones obsession with timepieces. But there was no answer, and after two of the slowest minutes he’d ever experienced ticked by, Rhiannon sighed and dug into her purse for the spare key to the flat.

She opened the door and gasped. Jack stepped past her and pulled his gun, searching the rooms. “Ianto?”

The flat had been trashed. Bookcases had been pulled over and broken after their contents had been ripped apart and thrown about the room. Furniture was broken or torn to pieces. The lovely art had been pulled from the walls and destroyed.

Nothing had been spared. Books had been torn, dvd’s and cd’s had been taken from their cases and broken. In the bedroom, suits and clothing had been shredded. In the kitchen, the coffeemaker had been smashed, as had every plate, glass, and mug. Everything was in utter ruin.

Rhiannon was kneeling with a broken picture frame in each hand. She looked up at Jack, tears streaking her face. “He wouldn’t have done this,” she whispered, holding up the ruined picture of Lisa and Ianto, a happy couple smiling out from the photo, unaware of the cruel fate they faced.

Jack wasn’t so sure. He finished looking around, making sure the flat was secure before running down to the SUV and using one of the computers there to access the camera he had planted in the living room, just after the first psychic attack on Ianto. He wasn’t sure whether to be afraid or relieved when he saw several masked strangers systematically destroy Ianto’s flat. His heart almost broke when he saw Ianto entering a few hours later. What he’d thought would be his sanctuary after the worst day imaginable turned out to be the site of a further violation.

Jack watched as Ianto looked around, calmly taking it all in. He reached into his pocket for his phone, and the angle was such that Jack could tell it was his number Ianto pulled up before his shoulders slumped in defeat and the phone slid from his fingers and dropped to the floor. Jack was certain his heart did break as he saw Ianto decide he could not call on Jack, no matter how much he might need him.

He continued to watch as his young lover took another look around the flat, his quick, assessing gaze taking in the fact that nothing had been spared the destruction. And then he turned and calmly walked out, again.

Jack found Ianto’s bank and credit card information, and discovered that he had stopped at a cash point not far from his flat. Pulling up the security footage, he could see the stress of the day had left Ianto looking pale and drawn. But he also looked angry and determined.

_Good._

Jack could work with that. He was fairly certain that, given the amount of cash Ianto had withdrawn, that he had enough to get some new clothes and a place to stay the night. He reached out to Toshiko and asked her to see if she could get a CCTV trace on Ianto, to see where he ended up, but he was fairly certain that the younger man knew the basic countermeasures required to elude detection.

He returned to Ianto’s flat to find Rhiannon attempting to clear up the mess. “Leave it,” he told her quietly. “I’ll have it cleaned up. We’ll inventory and replace everything damaged, and set it to rights.”

She nodded. “What happened today?” she asked, then sighed. “I know you can’t tell me, but he sounded so… broken. Said he found out more about James Harper.” She glanced at him. “That’s the name of the man who… you know about his transplant, yes?” Then her face paled. “His meds!”

She hurried to the kitchen, where the medicine bottles had been opened and emptied, the pills crushed underfoot, along with broken crockery and every bit of food from the pantry and refrigerator. Coffee beans were everywhere. Even the pill box on the counter had been destroyed. “He’s not supposed to miss dosages,” she fretted.

“I was able to determine that he went to a cash point,” Jack said. “He’s got money, so I’m sure his first stop after that was to get essentials.”

“You think so?” she looked at him, tears in her eyes. “He… He wasn’t making a lot of sense, when we spoke. That’s why I came by.”

“If I know Ianto, he’s found a safe place to hole up, and he’ll be in to work in the morning. You’re right, it wasn’t a good day, but he knows we’ll need him to show up in the morning, so he will. I’ll have him call you as soon as I see him. Okay?”

There wasn’t much else to say, so they parted ways, and Jack began scouring the city, looking for Ianto. Tosh had traced the younger man as far as the off-license, where he bought an alarming quantity of booze after finding a suit shop and purchasing a few articles of clothing.

Jack was disturbed, but couldn’t say why, when he found that Ianto had simply purchased two suits off the peg, without being measured for anything bespoke. Of course, it wasn’t Ianto’s usual tailor, but then that was bothersome, as well. Except that Jack could see Ianto anticipating that his usual sources might be watched. It was paranoid, but he’d been attacked, his flat trashed, and God knew the shape his defenses were currently in. And also he was likely trying to protect those who knew him by staying away from them.

Jack went back to the hub, half hoping that Ianto was there. He checked the tourist office, then the hub. He even checked the sensors, to see if Ianto might be hiding out in the archives. It did occur to him that there might be places in the lower levels with no sensors, or sensors that Ianto might have disabled, but there were no heat signatures in the entire place, either. It hurt to realize that Ianto clearly no longer considered the hub a safe haven.

Jack spent the first part of a sleepless night trying to trace Ianto’s movements after the off-license. But Ianto Jones was in the wind. Without his meds. With enough alcohol to kill him. And with the thought that the team had been keeping the details of his transplant secret. Jack could only guess how Ianto must be feeling, realizing that everyone knew something so vitally important. Everyone but him, to whom it mattered most.

Jack knew his lover. And he knew that Ianto was likely to interpret the secretiveness as a slight. He would not understand that they had been trying to protect him. Indeed, he would resent being treated like a child. This would be a humiliation for Ianto, particularly because Gwen had been read in.

The manner of his finding out was troublesome, as well. Owen had always had the tendency to bully Ianto, but the younger man’s medical history had been sacrosanct. Owen’s unique brand of professionalism had dictated that, until today.

Jack continued to pore over the CCTV, but it was no use. Around two in the morning, Melody decided to weigh in.

_You won’t find him._

**Are you hiding him?**

_I don’t need to. He’s very good. You just never bothered to notice._

**That’s not true. Do you know where he is?**

_I would not tell you, if I did._

**I just want to know that he’s all right.**

_Why? You’ve gone out of your way to hurt him._

**Not on purpose. I’ve been compromised. I only realized when I got back and saw how out of hand it had all become. I don’t even know how long…**

_You began acting strangely when the Sky Gypsy flew through the rift._

Jack sat back, frowning. That had been weeks ago.

_I know your situation is not ideal, Captain, but I’m fairly certain you’re not normally suicidal. Nor do you encourage such tendencies in those under your care._

**He would have found a way.** Jack felt defensive, now. Had he helped a man die, when he could have been saved?

_Perhaps. But you don’t normally give up on people that easily. Not without a fight. But there was a loneliness in him, his situation, that resonated with you, despite your growing connection with Ianto. You’ve been manipulated to the point where that loneliness is the only thing you’ve been able to see or feel. You’ve pushed Ianto away so you can ignore the fact that it isn’t really true, any more. And then you completely embraced it when you landed in 1941._

**Ianto didn’t want to open the rift.** Jack hated himself for how that bothered him.

_Jack. It took everything he had, to do the right thing. And he’s barely hanging on. Had he succeeded, I’m not sure how he would have survived making that choice, particularly thinking he’d never see you again._

**He knew it was a trap, and he thinks none of us believed him.**

_Yes. Everything Owen said to him today was reinforced by you or Toshiko, the two people he trusts most. Owen says he’s just the tea boy, and you get back and don’t take him seriously when he tries to warn you that the team is compromised._

_Owen says he’s just your part-time shag, and Tosh tells him how you told your namesake that there was no one waiting for you, back home._

_Owen called him easy, saying the only thing that attracted you to him in the first place was the novelty of him having your heart._

_And he believes that the team being compromised means they’re just saying out loud what they’ve believed, all along._

**How do we fix this?**

_I don’t know. The rift is very volatile right now, and it’s making it difficult to feel the timelines._

**Do you think he’s all right?**

_No. I don’t._

After that, Jack had to stop looking for his wayward archivist, because the phone began ringing. Anomalies were popping up around the world…

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this just kind of happened. I went to write the Heart and Soul version of "End of Days", and this came out, instead.
> 
> So... Hope you enjoy? It's the eye of the storm - a moment of lucidity for Jack that will be lost by the dawning of the next day...
> 
> Next up, "End of Days".
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

Ianto reported to work before dawn wearing a rather unattractive, ill-fitting suit, smelling like a distillery and still half-sprung. He immediately went to the archives to look for… Jack wasn’t certain what he was looking for, actually.

Jack knew he was still being twisted around, though. For all his worry about Ianto the previous evening, now Jack was annoyed by everything the younger man said. He was barely able to hand Ianto’s mobile to him and tell him to call his sister without saying something nasty and snarky.

Jack came up short when he realized that Ianto was reading sinister bible verses to the team, just to tweak them all. “Plenty more where that came from. Abaddon, the Great Devourer, who’ll lead the world into shadow.”

“Yeah thanks, Ianto,” Jack snapped. “I can do without the superstition. You people love any story that denies the randomness of existence.”

“Thanks. That makes me feel better,” Ianto returned the snark.

For a moment Jack felt like they had been fitted with straightjackets. Like they were locked in to the course that had been set, and there was no changing direction.

He let the team know that he’d had a busy night, and once Toshiko showed them that everything that was happening was due to the rift splintering, he came down on Owen. “You opened the rift without knowing what you were doing. You’ve caused the temporal cracks to widen. Time is seeping through.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you two’d still be in the 1940’s,” Owen wasn’t about to just admit he’d done something wrong. “So are we going to sit around crying into our lattes, or are we going to do something about it?”

Jack gave them their orders and a strange assurance that the world definitely wasn’t ending, today. He sent Tosh and Owen to the hospital, and he and Gwen went to the police station. They had just locked the Roman soldier in the cells when Ianto joined them. Jack experienced a moment where gravity took a stronger role in its effect on his blood supply when he saw Ianto man-handling the Weevil that was with him into the cell.

Ianto sent a raised eyebrow in Jack’s direction, the sardonic ‘you _must_ be kidding’ left unspoken. He was able to get them smoothly back on track by asking if Jack wanted to open up the lower levels. Gwen left the corridor, and Jack made to follow, but first he stepped up to Ianto, invading his space as the younger man watched the Weevil in the cell.

“Need any help, activating anything else… _below_?” he purred, a hand wrapped around Ianto’s tie.

Ianto’s eyes widened and he stepped away from Jack so quickly he almost stumbled. “I’ll pass,” he hissed, his face pale.

Jack shrugged. “Suit yourself,” and sauntered away.

Jack was back in the main level of the hub before he questioned what he’d just done. Looking at the CCTV, he could see Ianto still standing in the corridor, holding his head in both hands. He felt a pang of regret as he watched the younger man collect himself and move on to carry out his orders.

When Ianto returned to the main level, it was to see Owen and Jack winding one another up. Owen, asking for orders Jack had already given; Jack, blaming Owen for the mess they were in, Owen, upping the stakes when he told Jack they knew his chosen identity didn’t actually exist.

It was the questioning of why they should follow Jack that seemed to be the final straw. Jack relieved Owen of his duty, with Tosh and Gwen arguing. Really, Ianto thought it was about time. Although he doubted any of them was fit for duty, at the moment. But no one wanted to listen to _reason_ , did they?

Owen left, and then something happened with Gwen when she and Jack went to question Bilis Manger. Ianto remained convinced the strange man had something to do with all of this – why the hell else would he have the key to the rift manipulator? But yet again, no one wanted to listen to the fucking tea boy. So now Rhys Williams was in one of the lower cells, and everything just felt… _off_.

Next thing they knew, security had been breached, and Rhys was dead. And now everything was so off, Ianto felt like he was coming out of his skin. He couldn’t bear to be in the med-bay with the others, so he slipped back down to the vaults, to clean up Rhys’ blood.

So he was not there when the team mutinied against Jack. Jack called him over the comms to come back him up as the other three worked to open the rift. Ianto ran into the hub proper and realized he should have armed himself when Gwen punched Jack.

He ran forward as Jack provoked Owen and the doctor shot him. Ianto felt the heart stop in his chest and fell to his knees with a gasp. In the next instant, he felt what was left of his psychic shields shatter. A moment later, the heart resumed a stuttered pace, and he crawled towards Jack’s body. “What have you done?” he asked.

The entire world was nattering in his brain, it felt like. And Jack was dead. And the team’s thoughts felt like fingernails on a chalkboard.

“Quickly, before he revives,” Gwen said. She looked at the screen, which showed that retina prints were required. “Shit.”

Ianto rose slowly to his feet. If he could get to the lower levels, he could lose them in the archives. Give Jack time to… revive, whatever that meant. They couldn’t open the rift without him, and he was _not_ going to cooperate. Gwen was scanning Toshiko’s and Owen’s eyes, and he took his chance. He sprinted past them, but Tosh stepped in front of him. He tried to move her aside, but she had Gwen’s stun gun.

He went down in a heap, gasping for breath. It had been a low setting, so he was still conscious, but his chest ached sharply. Owen grabbed the gun from Tosh and hit Ianto with another jolt, to keep him from fighting them as they scanned him. “Thanks, Tea Boy,” he sneered, kicking Ianto before moving back to the computer.

Ianto managed to crawl back to Jack’s body. He collapsed next to it as the others finalized the protocol to activate the rift. Just as Gwen clicked “OK”, Ianto felt that disconcerting _thump_ and Jack gasped back to life.

“What have you done?” Jack protested, grabbing Gwen’s arm.

The rift opened, and Ianto just stared at it, for a moment. It was quite beautiful, actually. But then the hub started to break apart. Ianto helped Jack up, and grabbed his greatcoat as they made their way out of the hub. His mind was jibbering, and he didn’t realize he was saying, “It was a trap. It was a trap. It was a trap,” over and over again like some lunatic mantra.

They reached the street and Gwen began reassuring Jack. “It’s going to be all right, Jack. Everything is going to go back to normal.”

“Yes, because you have _so_ much more experience with this sort of thing, that you actually know that,” Ianto jeered, still holding Jack up. “Or maybe it’s because you took the word of the man who has been manipulating us for _weeks_ over the word of your leader. Maybe that’s it.” It was distinctly possible that he and Jack were holding one another up, at this point.

Gwen was sputtering some inane defense as Bilis appeared before them. “From out of the darkness, he is come,” Manger intoned.

“What is he talking about?” Gwen asked, wide-eyed.

Ianto wanted to punch her hard enough to give her an excuse to fix her teeth. How could anyone be that _thick_? Even Owen seemed to have caught a clue, judging by his ‘I wonder if anyone would notice if I pissed myself’ expression.

“Son of the Great Beast, cast out before time, chained in rock and imprisoned beneath the rift,” Bilis uttered. Then he lifted his gaze with a rapturous expression. “All hail Abaddon, the Great Devourer, come to feast on life. The whole world shall die beneath his shadow.”

As he spoke, the creature rose behind them, roaring.

The fear of the city was so profound that Ianto almost blacked out. And then his head cleared, somewhat. His senses were so overloaded that they simply stopped working. It was like a bright light that blinds. You can’t see anymore, but the light no longer bothers you, either. He was now psi-blind, but he didn’t need that sense at the moment, so it was alright that it was gone. In its place was a strange sort of buzzing sensation that was annoying, but manageable.

As they watched, the beast moved, and all who were touched by its shadow fell down, dead. “It would seem the text is quite literal,” Ianto observed, fairly certain that rational thought had fled several days ago, but wishing to keep up appearances.

Jack gave him a concerned look.

“I look upon you, my god, and know my work is done,” Bilis continued his raptures.

“Does someone have a gun? He _really_ needs to shut up, now,” Ianto seemed to be the only one who’d found his voice. Jack was worried by how unwell he looked, but there was no time to check in.

“How do we stop it?” Gwen asked. “Tell me what to do, Jack.”

Jack looked at each of them, then back to Gwen. “Just you,” he said, seeing Ianto flinch from the corner of his eye. “Get me to an open space.”

As they drove off, Ianto followed Tosh and Owen back to the hub, feeling more disregarded than usual. The place was a shambles, but Melody was able to confirm it was still structurally sound. Within minutes, Ianto was collapsed on the floor, screaming. Searing pain wracked the heart and lungs, and radiated through his entire body. Jack was dying, horribly. And Ianto was feeling every moment of it.

Owen and Tosh tried to keep him still as it just seemed to go on and on. Through their comms they could hear Jack’s screams. Tosh and Owen both pulled theirs out, unable to bear it. When Owen reached for Ianto’s, the younger man smacked his hand away, covered the earpiece with his hand and curled in on himself, Jack’s screams expressing his pain more eloquently than he possibly could.

When it was finally done, Ianto lost consciousness for a few minutes. Toshiko stayed with him as Owen went to help Gwen collect Jack. Ianto was up by the time they returned, and helped Owen bring Jack’s body in. Owen was still not himself, but he was shaken enough to heed the younger man’s angry snarl and leave him alone to wash and prepare Jack’s body for cold storage.

For all his conflicted emotions about what had happened, Ianto had not stopped loving Jack. So he tended his fallen lover with all the care and respect that a grieving partner could muster. He had seen Jack revive from one death, but this seemed different. It had certainly felt different. Ianto absently rubbed his chest, listlessly wondering if the heart’s survival might depend on Jack’s ability to revive.

By the time he was done, he had Jack laid out in the lower level. He’d planned to sit with him for a while, to say goodbye. Tosh and Owen were there as well, Owen scanning Jack yet again to ensure there were no signs of life. Then Gwen showed up and pretty much dismissed them all.

And she would _not._ Fucking. _Leave_.

Ianto had to watch her stand vigil over _his_ lover. He could not budge her. He asked her if he could have a moment to himself with Jack, but she simply refused to leave. He had to limit himself to holding Jack’s hand during Gwen bloody Cooper’s toilet breaks.

He did not leave the hub. Wasn’t like he had a flat to return to, after all. No one noticed that he wore the same ugly suit, only changing his shirt and tie when he became too filthy from cleaning the hub to stand it a moment longer. No one noticed that he didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. No one cared that he was off his meds and his chest hadn’t felt right since the first moment the unstoppable force of Abaddon’s shadow had found the immovable object called Jack.

Actually, it hadn’t been right since Jack was sent back to 1941. And every kick, punch, jolt, and emotional blow had made it worse. Feeling Jack’s death in the confrontation with Abaddon had merely served to convince Ianto that time was getting short.

They all stood before the CCTV monitor, each watching from a different perspective. Ianto was angry and resentful and every fiber of his being just _hurt_. He wanted more than a stolen moment with Jack. Toshiko was sad, but composed. Owen was baffled.

“How long’s she gonna do this?” he asked, then looked at Ianto with something that was either understanding or pity. Perhaps both. Ianto looked away. Owen’s sneers were still too fresh and hurtful for Ianto to be able to stomach any kind of more humane attention from him.

He allowed himself one small moment of grief when needlessly tidying Jack’s office for the fifteenth time in two days. He reached for Jack’s coat, which he had hung up in its usual spot as a sign of his hope that Gwen was right. Taking it down from where it was hanging, he held it to his face, savoring the calming scent, one last time.

He did not understand any of this, how Jack couldn’t die. Melody had shown Ianto the records from the mission where Jack had been undercover as James Harper. She explained her part in it – that she had changed his paperwork so he was an organ donor when his cover had been blown and he’d been run down in the street.

She did not explain _why_ she had done this, no matter how many times he asked.

But she explained that the strange reactions he’d after the transplant were due to the failure of the kidneys that had also been harvested from Jack. And now he understood that due to the psychic connection between Jack and his transplanted heart and lungs, Ianto felt Jack’s deaths. Which meant Jack had died four times that night a few weeks ago, doubtless sitting in Ianto’s car with John Ellis as he killed himself.

Ianto didn’t understand why Jack had encouraged him to pretend… and as it turned out he wasn’t actually pretending – it _was_ Jack’s heart, beating in his chest. But why had Jack done that? Was it narcissism, as Owen declared? And why not tell Ianto? Was he really so unimportant, that he didn’t deserve to know the truth of his own transplant? Was he not to be trusted, that the secret of Jack’s condition could not be shared with him?

Even Melody had withheld that information from him. He had asked her on several occasions to help him try to find out more about the elusive James Harper, but she had mysteriously always come up empty. Now he knew why, and it was perhaps that betrayal that hurt more than any of the others, but one.

Ianto had so many questions, and the one person who could answer them was not waking up. The team kept saying that Jack always revived, but apparently it had never taken this long, before. It was clear that Tosh and Owen had given up hope. Gwen was still convinced Jack would revive; hence her vigil. Ianto wasn’t sure what he believed, but he was fairly certain his views did not matter.

Clearly, he was nothing to Jack, alive or dead.

He just hoped it would stop hurting, when Jack’s heart finally gave out.

Shouldn’t be long, now…

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of dialogue lifted from "End of Days" and used for my own nefarious purposes.
> 
> Apologies for the heavy angst.... Well, okay. I'm not really sorry, though it was as tough to write as it probably is, to read.
> 
> Any slack previously cut on Gwen's behalf has officially been deemed null and void, but I must confess that she tweaked me more in this episode than just about any other, and I think it's fair that Ianto's opinions are harsh, right now - he's not at his best, poor lamb. I think normally he's not unkindly disposed towards her, even if she stands on every insecurity button that could ever make him neurotic.
> 
> So this was "End of Days". You know what's next. Well, you know _some_ of what's next. It will go AU by middle of the next chapter.
> 
> Hope you enjoy - and thanks for reading!


	16. Chapter 16

Jack’s heart had been behaving strangely in Ianto’s chest, ever since the captain had faced Abaddon.

Ianto couldn’t call the heart his own, anymore. Not now. Jack had almost convinced him, in those few short weeks, when things were good. But Ianto could no more believe that now than he could fathom why Jack had perpetrated that charade. Was it some sort of joke?

Were they all just laughing at him?

They all knew. That’s what was most disconcerting. Well, not really. Jack Harkness’ heart and lungs living in Ianto’s body while the man himself still walked around… that ranked right up there.

Except now Jack wasn’t walking around. He’d been dead for a bit more than three days, now…

But Ianto couldn’t understand why he hadn’t been told. His security clearance was higher than anyone else’s at Torchwood, other than Jack’s. Not that anyone knew that – including Jack, most likely. But if it wasn’t clearance, then it must be trust. Ianto couldn’t be trusted with Jack’s condition, so the truth of his transplant could not be shared, either.

Except that Owen had done just that. And he’d done it, just to be cruel.

And what became of a Torchwood operative, when they knew something they weren’t meant to know? Should he be checking all liquids for Retcon, now? Or would he be better off not knowing?

Did it even matter, anymore?

Ianto closed his journal and set it aside. He knew he didn’t have to worry about anyone trying to read it. No one cared enough about what he had to say – why would they care about his random scribbles?

He scrubbed his hand over his face. Trying to sort through his feelings by journaling about the whole mess had seemed like a good idea, but the inevitable conclusions he’d drawn were of no comfort. In fact, they served the exact opposite purpose, leaving him more distraught than before.

“You all right?” Owen asked sharply, making Ianto jump. He thought he’d been alone in the hub.

“Fine,” Ianto didn’t care that he sounded defensive. “Why?”

“You’re rubbing your chest again,” Owen said, frowning.

“Sweat and dirt,” Ianto lied easily. “Making me itch. Was just trying to work up the energy to go take a shower and change.”

“You should go home and get some kip,” Owen said. “You’re the only one besides Gwen who hasn’t left.”

“I’m fine,” Ianto lied again, hauling himself off of the sofa. He swayed on his feet, but thankfully Owen had turned to see Toshiko entering through the cogwheel door. By the time Owen turned back, Ianto was headed to the locker room for a shower that he did actually need rather desperately.

He threw away the crappy suit that was now ruined and stepped into the shower, ignoring his bruises and just letting the water wash over his aching body. The pained, sluggish sensation was distantly familiar. It hadn’t been his heart failing back then, but his lungs. But apparently this was simply how dying felt.

He briefly considered raiding Owen’s infirmary to find something for the pain, but really he couldn’t complain. The physical pain wasn’t terrible, and though the emotional pain was almost crippling, there was nothing to be done for it.

Thankfully the psychic pain was under control. Before he had realized the extent of her meddling, Melody had helped him to cobble together some shielding. It wasn’t much, but it kept the team’s angst at bay, and that was all he could ask, at the moment. He was just glad he was able to get something constructed before the psi-blindness subsided.

He quickly dressed in the second crappy suit he’d bought. It still hurt, to think of all his beautiful suits at home, cut to ribbons on the bedroom floor. That had just been mean. He considered checking a weapon out of the armoury, to have on hand if Bilis Manger showed up again.

Raising demons was one thing, but you just don’t do that to a man’s suits…

When he emerged from the locker room, Toshiko called him over to help her put some equipment back together. He sucked in a deep breath and headed over to help. He wasn’t feeling right. Hadn’t been, and the heart had been stuttering and behaving strangely for days, so it might be understandable that he missed the significance of the tiny _thump_ that was just one more sensation, among many.

“You all right?” Tosh asked, frowning. She hadn’t got around to apologizing, yet. She was still angry. But Ianto looked unwell, now that she had a proper look at him.

Ianto snorted, and she knew exactly what he wasn’t saying. _What do you care?_

She wondered if she did, but something wasn’t right. And why was she so angry with Ianto, anyway? She shook her head, confused. He really did look dreadful. And he kept rubbing his chest. And stopping to take deep breaths, like he couldn’t get a proper lungful of air. “I mean it, Ianto. Are you all right?”

He turned his back, ignoring her, so she went back to her work with a huff, though she was distracted. Ianto’s color was all wrong. Maybe she’d have Owen look him over. She sighed at the thought of that battle, then looked up, stunned at the sight before her. There was Jack, walking up from the cold storage area, hand in hand with Gwen.

***

Ianto stood as Tosh ran into Jack’s arms. If he felt wobbly as he made his way to Jack – drawn to his side, as always – he didn’t notice it.

How do you greet your boss who has just come back to life after being dead for several days? Whom you love more than your own life (and are damned close to proving it)? Who only sees you as his part-time shag? Who didn’t trust you with possibly the most vital information that has ever applied to your well-being?

Ianto’s footsteps lagged as these thoughts chased one another through his head. He held out his hand, which was shaking with physical weakness and emotional uncertainty. But Jack reached out and pulled him into an embrace, and Ianto clutched Jack close with a sweet ache that might be worth it all, if he could just muster the wherewithal to keep pretending that Jack _cared_.

Jack’s hands felt good on his body. He felt them spread across his back, covering a broad area as they held Ianto in place against Jack’s chest. It was a comforting feeling, to be held so securely. He closed his eyes against the cruel ecstasy of that ache, pressing his nose into Jack’s shoulder, trying to memorize his scent.

Had he not considered it an imposition – it was too much to presume, really – he might have buried his face in the crook of Jack’s neck, breathing deeply and just clinging to Jack for far longer than this lovely hug was destined to last. A lover could make such a presumption, but not a part-time shag.

As Jack relaxed his hold on Ianto, he slid his hands up towards the younger man’s head. Jack leaned back, but only far enough to be able to kiss Ianto. It all happened far too quickly, but Ianto tracked each movement. Jack’s left hand cradled the back of Ianto’s head in a way that could have felt domineering but actually felt gentle and secure and _safe_.

His right hand slid around the back of Ianto’s head so his fingers came to rest just below his ear. His thumb rested along Ianto’s adam’s apple, a position that had always unnerved Ianto when other lovers had taken that liberty. It was likely a trust thing, and in light of the past week’s revelations, Ianto could not have explained why he allowed Jack such latitude, but once again, it felt safe, and Ianto needed the comfort of Jack’s touch.

The kiss itself was more affirming than intimate, but it felt like heaven and Ianto poured all of his love and pain into it, accepting that it would likely be their final kiss but grateful for it, nonetheless. When Jack pulled back, he looked slightly surprised, but then he caught sight of Owen, and their moment ended.

Ianto watched as Jack approached Owen, who couldn’t articulate a proper apology. Ianto was willing to overlook it this once, given the extraordinary circumstances. Particularly as Owen began weeping like a lost child when Jack forgave him. It was rather touching, actually.

Ianto hoped that the team could start healing, now.

He sucked in a deep breath, feeling winded and a bit light-headed. His chest still hurt, but that wasn’t surprising. He wasn’t certain what was going on – well, he had his suspicions – but Jack’s return wasn’t going to reverse whatever was going to happen. Ianto was just glad he’d got the chance to give Jack a proper farewell kiss.

It was silly, really. But just because Jack didn’t care didn’t mean Ianto didn’t. He’d spend his last breath kissing Jack, if it were up to him. But it wasn’t. So he’d take what he could get and bow out as gracefully as he could. Maybe he’d go and sit with Melody. He’d been avoiding her, and he really ought to tell her goodbye, at least.

At first it had been because he’d been angry, but then he realized she could tell that something was off, with him. He didn’t want her to alert Owen – the last thing he wanted was to be at the medic’s mercy. Not now. So he had begun avoiding her, even when she called out to him, to ask if he was all right. But she understood his anger, and had let him be, for the moment.

He looked up when he heard Jack ask if there was any coffee. Tosh told him that the coffee maker had been damaged. Ianto had ordered the parts needed to repair it, but they had not come in, yet.

“Ianto, you look like you could use some air,” Gwen said sweetly. “Why don’t you go stretch your legs and get us some coffee?”

Owen smirked in his direction, and he felt his face flush with embarrassment. He looked at Jack, who was nodding. “That would be great,” he smiled, but the expression faltered when he saw the look on Ianto’s face and remembered Owen’s harsh words to Ianto.

“Fine,” Ianto sucked in a deep breath and headed for the door.

“Hey,” Jack caught his arm as he tried to pass him on the walkway. “You all right?”

“All the better, for having you back, Sir.” Ianto pulled away and headed for the door.

“Why don’t you two go along?” Gwen eyed Owen and Toshiko. “Bring back some sandwiches or pastries.”

Owen and Tosh looked at one another and shrugged. It would be too much for Ianto to carry on his own, anyway. As they walked to catch up with Ianto, Tosh asked Owen if he’d seen how terrible Ianto looked.

“He was just pining,” Owen snarked. “He’ll be fine, now Jack’s back.”

“Do you think we’ve been too hard on him?”

“He _shot_ me, Tosh.”

“And you’ve kicked and tased him, Owen. I think it’s time to bury the hatchet.”

Owen scoffed, but he took a closer look at Ianto when they caught him up. He was surprised at what he saw. Ianto looked genuinely unwell. A sheen of sweat covered his face, and his coloring was a sickly grey. He seemed winded, and his lips actually had a bluish tinge to them that was concerning. Owen cursed himself for not having one of the scanners on him.

They made it to the coffee shop and back, and Ianto spoke very little. Neither could draw him into their conversation, and both noticed when his walk slowed to a shuffle. “You lot go in,” he muttered, holding out the tray of coffees to Owen, who noticed that his hands were shaking. “I just need a minute.”

They stared at him as he leaned against the railing overlooking the bay, his posture showing he was curling in on himself. This was not a man who was overjoyed that his lover had come back to life.

“Ianto,” Tosh reached out, but he flinched violently away from her touch.

“What?” he asked, his eyes suddenly wary.

Tosh stared at him, wide-eyed, and Owen was jolted from his surly anger. In that moment, the last of Bilis Manger’s manipulations dropped from their minds, and they were able to clearly see the result of his machinations.

“He couldn’t get Ianto directly,” Tosh muttered. “He was too strong for an outside attack.”

“So the bastard used us,” Owen muttered. He looked at Ianto more closely. The poor kid looked like a cornered rabbit.

No. It was important to remember that Ianto was not as helpless as he seemed. He was more like a cornered fox, and Owen had every confidence that the younger man could and would hurt them, if he felt threatened, at this point.

Owen raised his hands in a placating gesture and stepped back. He caught Tosh’s eye and they began to slowly walk towards the tourist office. But then a strange noise caught their ears. It was a grinding, wheezing noise that sounded strange and otherworldly.

They turned when they heard Ianto cursing a blue streak in Welsh. He began walking slowly towards the Plass. Within seconds, Jack bolted from the tourist office, sprinting towards the Plass, as well, Gwen hot on his heels. Owen and Toshiko followed, curious.

When they reached the Plass, they were shocked to see a strange scene before them. First of all, there was a blue police box sitting by the water tower. Second, Bilis Manger was standing about ten feet from the box, holding a pistol on Ianto, who was advancing on the nutter.

“Ianto!” Jack called out, and Bilis swung the pistol to cover Jack.

“Ah, Captain _Harkness_ ,” Bilis oozed. “I owe you so much pain for destroying my god, the Great Beast.”

“Don’t start that again,” Ianto snarked, cursing himself for not arming himself as he had planned in jest, earlier.

Bilis smiled at Ianto, and it chilled Jack’s blood. He was relieved to see the door to the TARDIS opening, but he frowned, not recognizing the young looking man in the bowtie. He did recognize the mass of curls that was beside him. But then his attention was drawn back to Bilis as the man spoke again.

“Your true punishment has already begun,” he smiled, eyeing Ianto again. “But I’ve never liked missing opportunities that have presented themselves.”

He fired the weapon, and Jack went down.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we are officially AU, now. Yay!
> 
> And oh, the angst! But as you can see, Bilis is still very much still fracking with the team - particularly Ianto.
> 
> And just to be clear, Ianto is not being melodramatic or emo, here. Nor suicidal, other than being weary enough to be willing to let nature take its course...
> 
> Hopefully the explanations in the next chapter will make sense.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

When Jack slowly came back from his long sleep, he felt strange and sluggish. He’d not had such a difficult death before, and he could tell he had been out for longer than normal. He was happy to see Gwen smiling down at him, but he was surprised Ianto was not there with him.

Then he remembered that Ianto had every reason to not want to be there with him. He asked Gwen where the others were, and she blithely stated that they had thought Jack was dead, for good, but that she hadn’t believed it.

Jack enjoyed her faith, but now took it with a significant, moose-sized salt lick. She handed him some clothes (not mentioning that Ianto had left them, just in case) and waited by the stairs as he slowly dressed. Then they went up to see the others.

Toshiko spotted him first, and as she ran to him he watched Ianto approach more slowly, looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Tosh stepped aside and then Ianto was there, sticking his hand out like they were mere acquaintances. Jack quickly rejected that notion by pulling Ianto into an embrace, noting the younger man’s slight tremble as he held him.

Unable to resist, and wanting to start putting things right (and just wanting to be close to his lover again), Jack cradled Ianto’s head in his hands and kissed him. Ianto’s mouth was heaven, and he was letting Jack feel his love and pain and confusion, as well as an acceptance that tasted more like resignation. As the kiss ended, Jack stared at Ianto, confused.

What was Ianto resigned to?

A movement behind Ianto caught Jack’s eye, and he released his lover to greet Owen. By the time that storm had passed, he needed a rest. He asked about coffee, hoping to go to the kitchen with Ianto and watch the younger man prepare a cup of bliss. Ianto’s confident, assured movements as he made their coffee were always soothing, to Jack.

But apparently the coffee maker was down for the count. Before Jack could think of an alternative, Gwen was offering one. Seemed reasonable. He nodded and looked to Ianto, only to realize the request had tweaked the humiliation Owen had wrought during their argument, several days ago.

Ianto quickly agreed and left, his body language speaking to the humiliation of being yet again dismissed as just the tea boy. He brushed off Jack’s attempt to check in with a distant, professional response before fleeing the hub.

Jack caught the disconcertingly smug look Owen and Gwen shared, and he did not appreciate it. And he saw her gambit for what it was when she also persuaded Tosh and Owen to go with Ianto. That annoyed him. He ignored her and went to his office, where he logged in to his computer as she hovered, close by.

_She wouldn’t let any of the others sit with you._

**Well, if they didn’t believe I’d wake, I’m not sure there was any harm.**

_Except if they didn’t believe you’d wake, it would have been nice for them to be able to say goodbye._

**Is he all right?**

_No._

**Tell me, please.**

_I can’t. He’s not speaking to me._

**What?**

_He’s very angry with me, for not telling him that you were James Harper._

**Why didn’t you?**

_I didn’t know how he found out; I only knew I wouldn’t be the one to tell him. I wish I had, though. Owen was cruel._

**I know.**

_He felt your death. Not a simple skipped heartbeat, like the others. He screamed as though he was the one facing Abaddon, in that field. He hasn’t eaten or slept since, or even left the hub. And he seems ill. I’m not entirely sure he’s avoiding me because he’s angry – it could be because he’s hiding._

**What’s he been doing?**

_Cleaning the hub like a fiend and helping set it to rights. And journaling…_

Jack jumped from his chair and went to the sofa, where Ianto invariably sat with his journal, when taking a break from whatever work he was doing. Sure enough, the journal was there. Jack managed to grab it and take it back to his office without Gwen noticing.

It didn’t take long to read the entries for the time since Jack and Tosh got trapped in 1941. Jack could map Ianto’s physical and mental deterioration during that time. He could almost pinpoint the moment that the younger man’s defenses finally fell. And he could see that losing his shielding had coincided with when he stopped referring to ‘my heart’ and went back to calling it ‘the heart’ or ‘Jack’s heart’.

Jack became more uneasy as he read. Ianto seemed convinced that Jack had not trusted him, and that Owen had been right about Jack’s regard (or lack of same) for Ianto. His lover had begun referring to himself as ‘Jack’s part-time shag’, which broke Jack’s heart. In the final passage he seemed to have concluded that Jack did not care about him at all, and trying to convince Ianto to pretend it was Jack’s heart had been a way of laughing at him – an inside joke the team shared, at Ianto’s expense.

Jack set aside the journal and tried to think of a way to fix this. Of all his many errors, this may be his greatest. He should have told Ianto. And now it might be too late. Jack was concerned that Ianto might be feeling suicidal, again. He wrote of speaking to his sister earlier, to tell her he was all right and to say he loved her.

The implication being that he was actually telling her goodbye.

Jack resolved to get out of the hub and take Ianto somewhere so they could talk. He needed to make this right, to get Ianto to believe that his conclusions were all wrong, and likely influenced by Bilis Manger. Jack wondered what they could do to protect themselves from the man. He had proved himself a menace, the way he’d dismantled the team.

“Jack,” Gwen came in and sat on his desk. He wanted to tell her to move. That was Ianto’s spot. “What would have tempted you? What visions would have convinced you to open the rift?”

Jack hesitated. Perhaps if he gave her an answer, she would leave it. “The right kind of Doctor.” All of a sudden, he could no longer tolerate her demands for answers that he did not want to give, and were none of her business. He stood and walked around her, leaving his office.

“But Jack…”

Jack kept walking. “Where are they with those coffees?”

He looked at the Doctor’s hand and saw it was vibrating strangely. He had rigged the thing up so it would glow if that version of the Doctor showed up. He wondered what this meant, but then he heard that glorious sound. He ran from the hub without a second thought.

“Jack?” Gwen called after him.

He made it out of the tourist office and could still hear the sound of the TARDIS' engines, along with a distinct Welsh commentary on it. He sprinted past Tosh and Owen and as he reached the Plass, the sight of the TARDIS was completely overpowered by the sight of Ianto Jones advancing, unarmed, on Bilis Manger, despite the gun pointed at him.

How could this glorious creature believe himself to be anything other than extraordinary?

“Ianto!” Jack called out, and Bilis swung the pistol to cover Jack.

“Ah, Captain _Harkness_ ,” Bilis oozed, and the name was like a barb. “I owe you so much pain for destroying my god, the Great Beast.”

“Don’t start that again,” Ianto snarked, looking mad enough to spit nails.

Bilis smiled at Ianto, and it chilled Jack’s blood. He was relieved to see the door to the TARDIS opening, but he frowned, not recognizing the young looking man in the bowtie. He did recognize the mass of curls that was beside him, though. But then his attention was drawn back to Bilis as the man spoke again.

“Your true punishment has already begun, Captain,” he smiled, his eyes straying Ianto again. “But I’ve never liked missing opportunities when they have presented themselves.” He fired the weapon, and the world went dark.

***

“Jack!” the Doctor exclaimed, running to where Ianto, who had caught Jack, was lowering him gently to the ground.

Bilis turned towards the Doctor’s voice, but immediately ignored the Time Lord as he bolted past him. His eyes widened when he spotted River. “YOU!” he snarled, losing his creepy, gentlemanly aplomb and casting the weapon away before running at her. “Your meddling has ruined _everything_!”

Before anyone knew what was happening, Bilis had tackled River to the ground (and could she really have been blamed for not seeing _that_ coming?). He had his knees in her chest and was throttling her so effectively that she could not find the leverage to throw him off of her. She was quickly suffocating.

Ianto stood and ran to the man, but he hesitated. If he just pulled Bilis off of the woman, he would simply disappear again, only to return to torment them later. Before he could stop to consider what he was about to do, he ran for the gun Bilis had dropped and quickly checked it to be sure a round was chambered.

He thrust the barrel under the man’s chin and fired.

Bilis flopped back, dead eyes staring at the rare Cardiff sun. Ianto felt something _snap_ painfully in his mind, even as he felt a _thump_ and heard Jack gasp. He fell to his knees and whooped in a huge breath.

“What have you done!” the Doctor roared, even as he tried to hold Jack steady.

With shaking hands, Ianto lowered the hammer on the pistol before engaging the safety and placing the gun on the ground. He turned to look at Owen, whose shocked expression felt like another blow. “I imagine Jack will want to know whether Bilis’ ability to step through time was a matter of biology or technology,” he said, and the medic nodded, quickly regrouping. “The Doctor can probably help,” he nodded towards the man in the bowtie.

Then he turned to the woman and helped her sit up. “Are you all right?” He gasped for another breath.

“I’m fine now, Crumpet,” she grinned at him and patted his cheek, then frowned. “Don’t mind him. He’ll be cross, but I’m sure once you explain, he’ll still be cross.” She glanced over to where the Doctor was currently explaining to Jack that this was his new, new face. New, new to Jack, anyway.

Ianto was staring at her, his mouth open as he gasped again. “Y-you,” he stuttered.

“The last man who said that tried to strangle me,” River quipped, eyeing him. “I’ve met you before, Ianto, but I assume this is the first time you’ve met me,” she smiled and held out her hand. “I’m River Song.”

“It’s you!” Ianto exclaimed as he ignored her hand and reached out to embrace her, letting out a small sob that surprised them both. He’d know that voice, anywhere. But Melody was her future, and he knew enough about timelines to keep his mouth shut. “Sorry,” he muttered, realizing he sounded mad, then pulled back and frowned. “You’ve got some blood splatter,” he reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and, after receiving permission, wiped the smear of blood from her cheek.

“That’s not from the shooting,” she said gently, taking the handkerchief from him and holding it to his face. He realized that his nose was bleeding. He gasped for another breath.

“Are you all right?” she frowned.

“Won’t be long, now,” he winked, but looked very sad. He sucked in another breath. As he tried to straighten he leaned back and then sat down hard.

“Ianto, what’s wrong?” she asked, worried. He looked dreadful.

The cloister bell on the TARDIS began to ring as Ianto’s eyes fluttered shut and he fell back onto the ground. River managed to catch him before his head hit the paving stones.

“Ianto!” Jack shouted, staggering over and dropping down beside his lover.

“Doctor, what is it?” River looked back to the TARDIS.

“The timelines are in flux,” the Doctor said. “I was meant to be here, today. I _was_ here today, and I took Jack – or rather, Jack hitched a ride.” His eyes widened as he felt time rewriting itself. It wasn’t that much, really. So much had been undone, when the paradox had been broken. But now, Professor Yana would remain a kindly old scientist at the end of the universe, and the Year That Never Was now truly would never be. It saddened him to think of his old friend, still alive but out of reach, but it was for the best. The Master’s insanity had gone too far. Best leave him safe and oblivious, in the far distant future.

The Doctor looked sharply at Jack and realized that this was his second chance! He had behaved horribly to one of his best and oldest friends, during that trip. And Jack had experienced untold trauma and countless deaths, as a result. Thankfully, none of it had been fixed, so time was quietly stitching itself up around the change.

Certain holes were too large, so some remnants existed, but they were rendered harmless without the Master’s hand in them. Harold Saxon would just be a dimly remembered name that fell instantly into obscurity. His replacement was neither benign nor malignant, but certainly a better choice. The Archangel Network would be a forgotten relic – at least until Toshiko Sato got her clever fingers on it, a few years from now.

He smiled over at her as the timelines continued to heal and settle. The cloister bell rang again and he saw Ianto lying on the ground. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the young man. “Jack,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm, “take Ianto into the TARDIS. Straight to the med-bay.”

Jack didn’t hesitate. He helped the younger man to his feet. Ianto whispered, “Jack,” as he leaned heavily against Jack’s chest.

“What’s wrong, Doctor?”

“Let’s get him to the med-bay,” the Doctor said, looking at River, who had stood and was brushing herself off. “This shouldn’t be happening,” he said.

“I know,” she answered, her voice low and tense.

They left Owen and Gwen to take care of Bilis’ body. Tosh quietly followed the others into the TARDIS, marveling at the sight of it and longing to explore.

Ianto was a bit more alert when Jack helped him onto the bed in the TARDIS’ med-bay. Jack peeled off Ianto’s jacket, then took off his tie. By the time he was stripped down to his boxer briefs, the Doctor was fitting him up with a needleless IV and River was arranging pillows.

“She sings,” Ianto smiled at Jack before looking up at the ceiling. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” He looked back at Jack. “She’s so beautiful!”

“Yes, she is,” Jack smiled. “What’s going on with you, though?” He placed a hand over one of several sets of bruises on Ianto’s chest, startled at the heat coming from the younger man’s skin. “You’re burning up,” he frowned.

Ianto glanced down at his torso. Whatever was in the IV was making him loose and talkative. Perhaps it was just the relief from the pain of the past five days. “Owen’s elbow, and then his boot, when you went back to 1941,” he pointed first at the left side of his abdomen, then his ribs on the left side. Then he pointed to another bruise, just under his ribcage, on the left. “Tosh tased me when I tried to run and hide so they couldn’t get my retinal scan. Then Owen tased me, to keep me from fighting them when they took the scan.” He moved from the second taser bruise on his solar plexus, and finally pointed to his ribs, this time on the right. “And then he kicked me, when they were done.”

“Owen,” Jack growled.

“Leave it,” Ianto shrugged. “It was Bilis, remember?”

Jack just stared at him. Ianto was acting like it didn’t matter that the team had done this to him.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ianto echoed Jack’s thoughts, looking away, his posture uncharacteristically slumped.

“It really does,” Jack whispered, running a hand down Ianto’s arm. He was surprised when Ianto’s face screwed up in pain and he pulled away from Jack’s touch.

Jack realized that Ianto did not believe him.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I rearranged chapters so you wouldn't have two days in a row where I walked you off a cliff.... (This one was meant to end with the TARDIS' cloister bell ringing as Ianto fainted.) :D
> 
> Anyway, Jack decided he wanted to retrace the story from his waking from his POV, so that was unexpected, and ate into about half of the chapter, but I kind of like seeing how he used every resource available to get up to speed.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed Bilis' fate. And hope the changed timelines make sense. It felt like an interesting opportunity to go AU, but also acknowledge that that's not what originally happened. Only the Doctor will remember the aborted timeline, now. 
> 
> Trying to make the next chapter work - lots of discourse and explanations. Needs much work.
> 
> And I'll let you in on a little secret - I still have no idea where this is going, though I'm not sure how much more there is. They won't tell me! Just have to keep faith that they will...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

Jack ran a hand down Ianto’s arm, trying to comfort him. He was surprised when Ianto’s face screwed up in pain and he pulled away from Jack’s touch.

Jack realized that Ianto didn’t believe him.

“Ianto, we need to talk.”

The Doctor had been scanning Ianto with various pieces of equipment, each more ridiculous than the last. He gave Jack an apologetic look and said, “Ianto, you’re showing symptoms of acute organ rejection. Fatigue, weakness, fever, shortness of breath, irregular heartbeat, extremely low blood pressure, and fainting.”

“What can we do?” Jack asked, trying to control the panic that he felt rising.

“I’ve given him something that will help for now; it’s just a temporary fix, but it will buy us some time, to get our bearings. This isn’t a physical rejection, though I do want to know how long you’ve been off your meds,” he turned to Ianto with a pointed look.

“Four or five days. My place got trashed. Pretty sure that was Bilis,” Ianto glanced at Jack, who nodded. “There were two goons who followed me. Tried to make it look like a mugging outside of the cash point.”

“What happened?” Jack asked, concerned.

“I had my stun gun on me,” Ianto smirked.

The Doctor frowned, but River said, “So the two men jumped you, and you defended yourself?”

Ianto nodded. He looked a bit sheepish. “I left them tied up naked in the alley.”

“Why naked?” River asked, her eyes dancing.

“They cut up my suits,” Ianto’s eyes burned with renewed anger for a moment before filling with tears.

“Come here, Tiger,” Jack pulled Ianto into his arms. “He couldn’t get at you directly, so he used the rest of us to bring you down.”

Ianto snorted and pushed Jack away. “I’m just the tea boy, Jack. Why would I be the target?”

“Ianto, yours is one of the most powerful psychic minds the planet has ever produced,” the Doctor said quietly, then hesitated. “That is, it’s meant to be.”

Ianto frowned and shook his head. “You’re mistaken, Sir. I’m nobody. But Jack,” he added before they could argue with him, “has been waiting for a long time to see you, Doctor.”

Jack looked at Ianto, surprised again that the younger man had figured this out. He looked at the Doctor, who was staring openly at Ianto, as if puzzled.

“Well I suppose there is time, and your story affects Ianto’s,” the Doctor said, turning to Jack. “First of all, I would like to apologize to you, Jack. I treated you terribly.”

Jack swallowed, and he found Ianto’s hand in his. “You knew…”

The Doctor hung his head. “Let me start by saying that your first encounter with me was meant to be with the regeneration that was between the one you knew and me. Things happened... But the TARDIS brought us here today instead, and now none of that happened, after all.”

“She changed the timeline?” Jack asked, surprised.

“A more important one is at risk,” the Doctor’s eyes slid towards Ianto before returning to Jack. “So in a way, I already explained this to you, but now I haven’t. So yes, _I_ know that you have been waiting almost a century and a half to get some answers from me. But the me that should be here, he didn’t realize.” He sighed. “I should have gone back to you and explained, but I didn’t. I was young and selfish and…” he huffed. “Really I have no excuse for what I did, and I’m sorry.”

“Why don’t you start by telling me what you’re apologizing for?” Jack asked, his voice strained.

“A dalek killed you on the game station.”

Jack felt Ianto’s hand grip his, and he decided to sit up on the table beside the younger man before his legs gave way. He nodded.

“I had sent Rose home, remember? Well, she busted open the floor panel and looked into the heart of the TARDIS. In that moment, she took the vortex into herself and became… something else.”

“The Bad Wolf,” Ianto muttered.

“What?” the Doctor turned sharply to Ianto.

Ianto blinked at the Doctor. “She’s still here. Don’t you hear her laughing?”

The Doctor frowned and checked Ianto’s pain meds. He’d ask about that later. He turned back to Jack, who was also looking at Ianto, who was smiling up at the ceiling again. “She came back just as the emperor was about to attack. And she vaporized them all. And she… brought you back.”

“I bring life,” Ianto whispered.

The Doctor nodded. “But Jack, it was too much power, and she didn’t realize what she was doing. She brought you back, for good. You’re… You’re fixed. You’re forever.”

Jack had paled considerably at the Doctor’s words. “Can you fix me?”

“You mean unfix, I think,” Ianto muttered.

Jack looked from Ianto to the Doctor. “What he said.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.”

“Please, Doctor. I wasn’t made for this. It’s too much. I… I’m so _tired_.”

“Jack, I’m sorry.

“But it’s only been… I’m only two centuries old. And a bit. And I… Doctor, please don’t make me live _forever_ …” Jack jumped from the table and fell to his knees before the Doctor. “ _Please_.”

The Doctor fell to his knees and took Jack in his arms. “I’m sorry, Jack. If I could undo it, I would.”

“No,” Jack sobbed against the Time Lord’s shoulder. “Please, no.”

Ianto watched as Jack got his answers, as empty and horrifying as they were. He cried for his lover’s pain, longing to be the one comforting him. But Jack was with the one he really wanted, and Ianto would not interfere.

Ever since Jack let the cat out of the bag about having been one of the Doctor’s companions, he had spoken openly to Ianto about his travels, and about the Time Lord. Ianto was no fool. He knew that Jack felt about the Doctor the way he had come to feel about Jack.

This was good, then. Maybe there’d be someone to take care of Jack, that wasn’t Gwen.

He barely noticed when River dried his tears before fitting him with an oxygen mask. He was leaning towards Jack, wanting to offer some small comfort, but he knew there was nothing he could say or do, to make this better. Now he understood why Jack didn’t want to love anyone. Given his own pain, Ianto well understood. At least there was an end in sight, for him. But Jack would always have to keep going.

What Ianto didn’t realize was that with his defenses down, he was projecting the comfort he wished to give to Jack. The immortal felt as though he was being embraced, held from behind by Ianto as the Doctor hugged him. It was Ianto’s love and comfort that calmed Jack so quickly. As he leaned back to blow his nose, he gave the Doctor a small smile.

“One of the most powerful psychic minds the planet has ever produced?”

The Doctor nodded. He had felt Ianto’s presence with them, as well. But while Jack had only felt the comfort and love, the Doctor had also sensed the devastation and despair.

Jack sniffed. “So Rose brought me back.”

“And the vortex was burning her up, so I took it from her.”

“How did it not burn you up?” Ianto asked, curious.

“It did. As soon as we left, I regenerated.”

“You left me on the game station. The only living thing on the entire game station, and you left me there. With no explanation about what had happened to me. You did that on purpose?” Jack’s face twisted with the pain of that realization.

The Doctor hung his head. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I told you, I have no excuse, Jack.”

“But you must have had a reason,” Jack demanded.

The Doctor nodded. “I… I’m very vulnerable, just before and just after a regeneration. And your fixedness… _hurt_.” He reached out to steady Jack. “It doesn’t, now. But I didn’t realize it was something that the regeneration was making worse. I thought it would always feel that way, so I thought I would have to avoid you, to avoid that pain.”

“Does my existence still hurt you?” Jack asked quietly.

“No. I was wrong. It was something I’ve been able to acclimatize myself to. I was foolish not to realize, but I was dying, and not necessarily thinking clearly.” He reached out and brushed a hand along Jack’s arm comfortingly. “I’m sorry, Jack. From the very depths of me, I apologize.”

Jack sniffed, then wiped his eyes again, nodding. “It may take a while for that not to hurt, but… I forgive you.” He drew in a deep breath as he felt another wave of comfort and love from Ianto, as well as… He sniffed again, overwhelmed. Ianto was _proud_ of him.

He cleared his throat and decided he needed to deflect, no matter where. “So Rose,” he sighed. “I saw where she died, at Canary Wharf.”

“Everyone did,” Ianto nodded. When the Doctor looked at him, he shrugged. “There are only eleven of us, left.”

“I thought there were twelve,” Jack said, meaning to remind Ianto of Mainframe.

“Agatha Foyle stepped off the platform at Paddington Station in front of a through train, ten days ago.”

Jack sobered. “You didn’t say.”

“You were out with Gwen.”

Jack reared back as though Ianto had slapped him.

“There are only eleven of you left?” River sat by Ianto as he nodded miserably.

“We died that day too, really.”

“No, you did not,” River said firmly. “You survived, and for good reason.”

“Rose survived too, Jack,” the Doctor turned sad eyes from Ianto to Jack. “She’s trapped in a parallel world, but she is alive.”

“Really?” Jack’s entire being brightened. “Oh, that’s good news,” he smiled.

“Congratulations, Sir,” Ianto smiled weakly through the oxygen mask.

“Ianto, I’m sorry about Agatha,” Jack approached the table but knew better than to try to touch Ianto, at this point. The younger man merely nodded without looking at him.

“Jack, I’m afraid there’s more,” the Doctor said, almost reluctantly.

“What?” Jack asked. He wasn’t sure how this could get worse, but it was the Doctor, so...

The Doctor had locked eyes with River, who gave him a nod. They knew the story, just not their part – _this_ part – in it. But what concerned the Doctor the most was that this timeline was still in flux. Given what he was seeing in and feeling from Ianto, he was gravely concerned. Not just for the young archivist, but for Jack’s well-being, as well.

“Do you remember a young woman named Carys Fletcher?”

Jack suddenly looked cagey. The Doctor imagined his friend might know where this was heading. “Yes,” he said, not offering any details.

“In your future and my past, you asked me to look her up. I think this is why.”

“She was the sex gas alien girl, wasn’t she?” Ianto asked. The oxygen seemed to be helping, but he looked like he was growing weaker.

“Yes. We discovered that there were no lasting ill effects, from her encounter with the alien,” the Doctor assured him.

“But,” Jack prompted.

“No ‘but’. Just no ill effects. Ever. She was never sick a day in her life. And she lived to be one hundred and fourteen.”

Jack blanched. He looked at Ianto, then back at the Doctor.

“Is it because Jack kissed her?” Ianto rolled his eyes when two heads snapped in his direction. “I read the mission reports before I file them. Remember?” He sobered and pulled the mask from his face so he could speak more easily. “I suppose you should know, the TARDIS is singing to me, trying to soothe some of the damage done when my shielding came down, I think. But also, the Bad Wolf is dancing around in my head. She’s all gold and glowy,” he glared at Jack. “Something else you haven’t told me, _Sir_?”

The Doctor looked from one to the other, slightly panicked. River chuckled and stepped in. “Before you two have your domestic, I think you should bring us up to speed on what’s been happening, here. It’s probably pertinent.”

Ianto gestured to Jack with a scornful look. “Go on, Sir. I’d love to hear it, myself. Being as I’m in the dark, other than the things that Owen hurled at me during that argument. Oh, wait. Or should I leave? Is this above my clearance level, Sir?”

“Ianto,” Jack sighed. “You have every right to be angry.” He looked at the Doctor. “I don’t have any good excuse, either. I did have my reasons, but in retrospect I realize that they weren’t anywhere near good enough.”

“Let’s hear it, then.” Ianto drew his legs up and sat on the table, tailor-style and slumped under the blanket River wrapped around him. He let her help put the oxygen mask back on, then watched Jack as he sat next to him and told them all Ianto’s story.

Jack started with the fall of Canary Wharf, and Ianto’s diagnosis, shortly after that. He spoke of the illness that almost claimed the young man, and the mission that culminated in Jack’s inadvertent organ donation. The Doctor interrupted to ask why Mainframe had interceded, but Jack shrugged and said she wouldn’t tell them.

Ianto looked relieved that Mainframe’s motivation was not another secret they had all been keeping from him. Jack grimaced and quickly got back on track about how Ianto had asked to rejoin Torchwood in order to work with Mainframe. “We figured out his first day that he was the one who got my heart and lungs,” Jack said, looking apologetically at Ianto, “but we didn’t know him well enough at that point to just tell him about my condition.”

Ianto nodded. ”Fair enough. Makes sense, for that first day. But what about all the days that followed?”

Jack knew he had no answer that would satisfy Ianto. He shook his head and told them about how they had figured out the psychic connection that made Ianto sense Jack’s deaths. He spoke quietly of the day Ffion Griffiths died, and his attempt to help ground Ianto’s new heart in his body. He looked defiantly at Ianto, who was struggling to comprehend what Jack was saying. “I won’t apologize for it. You were more settled and grounded, after that.”

Jack sighed and continued. “But I am sorry I didn’t tell you about the transplant, after you recovered from the attack. It’s just, you scared me, Ianto. You had a gun in your hand both times I found you. And I wanted you to get your feet under you before springing something so huge on you. And then…”

Ianto hunched further into his blanket as Jack spoke of John Ellis and then Ianto’s declaration, and his own reaction to it. He was completely honest about his reaction. “I behaved stupidly,” he admitted. “But some of it was out of character, even for me, when I’m running scared.”

He quickly brought them up to date, describing his time and reactions in 1941, and detailing the fight between Owen and Ianto. He then described the rift splintering and the team opening it fully to release Abaddon, and of facing the beast. “I only just woke up,” he concluded.

The Doctor stepped up to Jack and held his hands at the sides of Jack’s head. “May I?” At Jack’s nod, the Doctor closed his eyes and read him. He stepped away, nodding. Then he did the same to Ianto. When he stepped away, he looked pale and pained. “Well, now we know what Manger meant when he said your true punishment has already begun,” he said, looking at Jack.

“What?”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to split this up, but it ended up being A LOT of talking and explaining. And I didn't feel like I could shortchange Jack getting his news (didn't want to forget that he's been waiting so long for his answers), and I couldn't really gloss over it. Poor Jack's having a terrible day. Though in fairness, it's not as bad as riding through the vortex on the outside of the TARDIS and dying, yet again...
> 
> Sorry if there's a lot of recapping, I was trying to get a lot of what Bilis Manger got up to straight in my head, and this was how it came out.
> 
> Anyway, one chapter would have been way too long, so I split it up.
> 
> Up next is another chapter of what's going on, and what might keep Ianto alive, but he's not having any of it.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	19. Chapter 19

The Doctor shook his head. “It was an intricately orchestrated attack. After you reinforced your defenses, Manger couldn’t overcome them, directly. Very impressive, by the way,” the Doctor smiled at Ianto, who blinked at him, not understanding the import of what the Doctor was saying. The Doctor shook his head. “Ianto, I’m not easily impressed. So please know that when I say your defenses must have been formidable, that’s something truly impressive.”

“So he attacked Ianto indirectly,” Jack nodded, finally understanding the uncharacteristic viciousness of the team.

“Yes. Manger used all of you. He tweaked your fears, Jack. Which made you make your… retreat… more hurtful. And then you were sent back to the past, where you were manipulated into believing that you were stuck there again. And back here, Ianto’s sense of duty was at war with his love for you. But his fear of what Torchwood could do in its ignorance outweighed his personal wishes. Though I imagine the reason Dr. Harper is still alive has more to do with that ambivalence than any sense of mercy Ianto may possess.

“Manger didn’t have to know your secrets, he just had to manipulate you all into giving them up. Dr. Harper was easiest – his psychic defenses are weakest, and his anger and grief made him malleable. And he’s the… well, he’s the meanest of you. He knows just what to say, to hurt each of you, the most. His attack on Ianto was three-fold. Belittle Ianto, denigrate your relationship, and tell him about the heart.

“And it must have been like Christmas, for Manger, when the secret of the transplant came to light. He started pulling that lever right away, but kept up the pressure on the others, to reinforce the first two lines of attack. He leveraged Miss Sato’s fear and stoked it into a righteous anger, and then she reinforced the idea that your relationship was less than it is.”

The Doctor turned to Ianto, continuing, “By the time you went home that night, you’d already been brought low. But then you saw your entire life outside of Torchwood, destroyed. You decided you couldn’t call Jack. And then a particular thought drifted in. Do you remember what it was?”

Ianto frowned as he pulled the oxygen mask away from his face, to allow him to speak. He remembered walking into his flat and being stunned and sickened by the destruction. And the thoroughness of it had made him feel… _violated_ in a way he’d never felt, before. He’d pulled out his phone, but as Jack’s number came up, he remembered that he couldn’t call Jack.

“I was about to call him, but I remembered what Owen had said. That I was nothing to Jack, that he didn’t care. And I remembered that Tosh had said that Jack had fallen for his namesake, in 1941. I figured he didn’t want to hear from me.”

The Doctor reached out and clasped Ianto’s shoulder. “Can you see that those thoughts were a manipulation?”

Ianto frowned.

“They were. They were meant to tear you down. And that’s exactly what they did.”

Ianto looked confused. “I don’t understand how facing the truth of what Jack and I shared – or rather, didn’t share – was a manipulation. It was stupid of me to hang on to any hope that he’d come around. Jack had already made it perfectly clear…”

“Ianto, no,” Jack reached out and took the younger man’s hands. “Look, you know we’ve all been manipulated, right? Well, I’m not saying I wouldn’t have run away a little bit, when you told me you loved me, but I would never have been cruel about it, using the one person that I know you’re insecure about to throw in your face. That was _not_ me, I promise you.”

Ianto shrugged. “But by your own admission, you would have run.”

“Just a little bit.”

“And that’s fine, Jack. I told you I wasn’t going to make any real demands of you.”

“And that was wrong, too,” Jack protested. “You have every right to ask for things, in a relationship. It shouldn’t be so one-sided.”

“And yet, all I asked was to be allowed to love you, and I still lost you,” Ianto retorted angrily. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset. All of your problems are about to go away.”

“But I don’t want you to go away, Ianto,” Jack said quietly, and a tear tracked its way down his face. “That’s why I tried to prime your heart…”

“ _Your_ heart,” Ianto sniped.

“…with energy. I didn’t realize it was vortex energy, or that it would…” he turned to the Doctor, “What exactly did it do?”

“I’ll get to that. But first, Ianto needs to tell us what else went through his head, after he decided not to call you.”

“I don’t understand why it matters,” Ianto argued, and that stubbornness that Jack usually considered cute and endearing was beginning to frustrate him. The Doctor caught his eye and with a shake of his head, he told Jack that Ianto was still reacting to Manger’s influence, somehow.

“Humor us,” the Doctor smiled. Jack decided he liked this regeneration, if for no other reason than the patience and care he was showing Ianto. The one he’d travelled with would be calling Ianto a stupid ape, by now. “In the moment you decided not to call Jack, Manger got past your defenses with one thought. Just one.”

Ianto huffed, then closed his eyes, remembering. “I dropped my phone. No one to call. Nothing to call my own. Hell, my own heart isn’t even mine,” tears began falling as Ianto was pulled back to the pain of that moment. “Jack didn’t willingly give it. It was taken from him, against his will. It’s not rightfully mine. **_I shouldn’t even have it_**.”

He gasped for breath and River put the oxygen mask back on him. “You said earlier it’s not a physical rejection,” she said. “What did you mean?”

“Well, it’s physical, insomuch as his body has begun rejecting the organ. But there is no physical cause.” He raised his eyebrows, hoping the penny would drop.

“It’s a psychic rejection?” Jack breathed, dread squeezing his heart.

Ianto closed his eyes wearily, nodding. That made sense.

“Yes,” the Doctor replied. “He ‘shouldn’t even have it’. That one thought was an insidious psychic manipulation that is destroying Ianto, from the inside out. Every other attack has reinforced it.” He turned to Ianto. “You now believe the horrible things that were said to you, when normally you would have shaken them off. You’ve taken every action and bent it to confirm those things you were told. Can you see it? Can you see how this is all Manger’s doing?”

Ianto frowned. “But why?”

“At first, to keep you from ruining his plans. You were likely the only one who could have.” He hesitated before adding. “And now, it’s his revenge. Ianto, Manger spoke of Jack’s punishment. Your death… _that_ would his punishment.”

He drew in a deep breath. “I just don’t see how that could be true.”

“Jack?” the Doctor turned to his former companion, who stepped forward.

Jack sat by Ianto and put an arm around him. “What do you want to know?” he asked.

“You couldn’t find the right time to tell me.”

Jack sighed. “No. I’m sorry. I should have tried harder. But truthfully, I was terrified of telling you.”

“About the transplant?”

“No, about my condition. Couldn’t tell you about the transplant, unless I told you about that, first.”

“Why were you terrified?”

“The last person I got close to and told… it didn’t end well,” Jack said.

“What happened?”

Jack hesitated.

“Jack…” Ianto, who never asked for answers or explanations, needed this answer.

Jack sighed. “She changed our daughter’s name and entered witness protection, to keep her away from me.”

“Why?” Ianto looked appalled.

Jack shrugged. “I’m dangerous.”

“Bollocks.”

“She hated me for not aging,” Jack looked defeated.

“So you didn’t want to tell me.” Ianto nodded.

“I’m sorry. It was unfair, but I… I just wanted a bit more time before driving you away.”

“You don’t give me much credit.”

“One hundred and thirty years of experience had me concerned.”

Ianto nodded, then frowned. “But everyone else knew. About all of it. Your… condition, my transplant…”

“As it turns out, yes.”

“Was all this just a big joke to you all?”

“Of course not. I promised you a long time ago that I would never laugh at you.”

“Then why did everyone know?”

Jack sighed. “Toshiko, Owen, and Suzie knew because they knew about the organs being harvested, when I died on that mission, and we had been searching for the recipient of my heart and lungs for a year, by the time you joined us. They were read in because it was mission-related.”

“That makes sense, Jack. But why did you have to tell Gwen?” Ianto looked at Jack, and he made no effort to hide the pain and vulnerability he felt. Jack favoring Gwen when she’d first joined the team had really done a number on Ianto. It had shaken his already uncertain confidence. And at every opportunity, she tried to assert how she had a special connection with Jack. Now he had to explain this, which for once, he thought, wasn’t actually his fault.

“Ianto, she wasn’t read in. I didn’t even know that she knew until I debriefed Owen, after Tosh and I got back.”

“Then how did she know? It should have been confidential.”

“The day of the first attack, when Ffion died, she overheard us talking about needing to look after you, and she wanted to know why. So she looked on Owen’s computer. She saw enough that they had to tell her.” He gave Ianto a squeeze. “You know how she is. She wouldn’t let it go.”

Ianto stiffened in Jack’s arms. He tore off the oxygen mask and pushed Jack away. “And you still don’t see the problem?” he almost shouted, jumping down from the table to face Jack.

“Ianto…” Jack stood from the table, as well, startled by Ianto’s anger.

“How many rules and protocols did she break, just in this one instance? Breach of medical confidentiality. Breach of privacy. Insubordination. Breach of protocol by using another officer’s credentials. Breach of protocol by accessing another officer’s information…” he left off there, gasping for breath.

“Ianto,” Jack reached for him, but he jerked away.

“No, Jack. This is how it is, with her. You think I’m jealous, but it’s not that.” He heaved in a breath. “Fuck it. Okay, so it’s not _just_ that. It’s the favoritism. It’s the constant indulgence of her rule-breaking, when any of the rest of us would have been fired and Retconned, by now. It’s the ‘oh, it’s just how Gwen is’ excuses that you make for her.”

“Ianto, take a breath…”

“It’s the constant questioning of orders, and the disobedience of them when they don’t fit into her narrow-minded little view of the world. It’s the undermining of your authority by arguing with you about every little thing. It’s the incompetence in the field that has cost lives, because for some reason she needed to be cleared for duty before she was fully trained.”

“Ianto, calm down!”

“It’s her being the bloody fucking ‘heart of Torchwood’, when she’s anything but. How many times has she mowed over our feelings, in her quest for the truth? Huh? How many times has her ‘I need to know, Jack’ trampled _everything_ in her path? And yet again, I’m meant to just _accept_ that she knows about _this_ ,” he slammed his fist into his chest, “because ‘she wouldn’t let it go’. Like her stubbornness gives her the right to know things she shouldn’t.”

“Ianto, please.”

“It was none of her business! And wasn’t it a treat, when she wanted to ask – over your fucking _body_ , which by the way, she wouldn’t let any of us near – whether I felt you making your way back from the dead. How it feels, when you die. How it feels, when you come back. Making sure I was on the lookout for that…” He finally seemed to be running out of steam. “Like it wasn’t tearing me apart, that you were gone. Like _my_ feelings meant nothing.”

“Ianto, I’m sorry,” Jack said, worried about the younger man, who looked even worse, in the wake of his tirade.

In the next moment, Ianto clutched his chest and cried out, collapsing onto the floor. Jack and the Doctor put him back on the bed, and the Doctor began working hurriedly. He directed River to administer pain medication and a mild sedative, then he brought out a strange gadget that he attached to Ianto’s chest, just over his heart. After several minutes, he sighed and stepped back from the bed.

“Heart attack, but we caught it early. Not much damage, but it’s one more symptom of the rejection.” He looked at Jack. “His heart…”

“ _Jack’s_ heart,” Ianto muttered from the bed.

The Doctor sighed. “He can’t take another one, like that. We have to keep him calm.” He turned back to the bed and took Ianto’s hand. “Ianto, the night Jack poured vortex energy into _your_ heart – hush, now. It’s in your chest. Possession is nine-tenths, and all that. Now, a normal heart wouldn’t be able to sustain the vortex. But that was once Jack’s heart, and it knows how to hold on to that energy, so it did. I imagine that during the weeks following, you felt better, stronger, didn’t need as much rest…?”

At Ianto’s tired nod, he continued. “And when Jack disappeared to the past, you felt it. As well as when he returned. It was disorientating? Yes. Because it wasn’t that Jack pinched off a bit of vortex and gave it to you. He actually shared _his_ with you. You see the difference?”

“So it got… stretched?” Jack asked, frowning.

“More or less,” the Doctor said. “But not really.” At River’s huff, he added, “Perhaps distorted, is a better word. It probably put some stress on Ianto’s heart, though. Getting kicked in the ribs and tased couldn’t have helped.”

“So even though the vortex went back to normal, he was still hurting from the distortion and the physical injury,” River nodded.

“Yes. And then when Jack faced Abaddon, it took all of the vortex available, to destroy the beast.” He looked to Ianto. “All of it. Even the bit Jack held in reserve, shared with you.”

“So he spent three days with injuries from the fight, the beginnings of acute organ rejection, and no vortex to help stabilize him.” River said, running a hand through Ianto’s hair.

“Yes. The vortex would have helped fight the rejection, but without it…” The Doctor looked from Ianto to Jack. “I think more vortex energy can stabilize him. Enough, over a period of time, might even reverse the rejection.”

“What does that mean, though?” Jack asked. “You mentioned Carys. One small kiss, and she’ll live so long. What would happen to Ianto?”

The Doctor sighed. “I don’t know, Jack. It would extend his lifespan, certainly. But I don’t know how long.”

“But you’ve met us, in the future.”

“Yes, and that timeline is still in jeopardy. That’s why the TARDIS unraveled another timeline – to try to save this one.” The Doctor looked at Ianto, who was watching them. “Ianto?”

Ianto looked at Jack, his anger having given way to an unutterable sadness. He turned on his side, facing away from them. “Leave me alone,” he whispered.

The Doctor took Jack’s arm as he stepped towards the bed with a small sob. River went around the bed and sat next to Ianto.

“I think we’re already friends, aren’t we, Crumpet?”

Ianto closed his eyes and nodded.

“There’s no way you’re his part-time anything, Ianto. He’s genuinely frightened of losing you."

He shrugged a shoulder. “You’ve lied to me, as well, you know.”

River sighed and stood from the table. She walked back over to the Doctor and Jack. “He’s completely shutting down.”

“Manger’s influence is working against us, as well.”

“I don’t think Jack will be able to share the vortex with him, without his consent,” River added. “How long do we have?”

The Doctor shook his head. “Couple of hours, maybe. Is there anyone who hasn’t completely alienated him, who he’ll listen to?”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Ianto is heartbroken and dying, so I think he can be forgiven for being a bit overwrought. I'm not sure his objection to Gwen knowing about the transplant is entirely rational, but it's what he's latched onto, and that was a hell of a rant. My poor keyboard! (It's hard not to take it out on the equipment, when distraught Welshmen are shouting in your ear...)
> 
> So this is Bilis' revenge - Ianto only has hours to live because he's psychically rejecting his heart, convinced that because it was taken against Jack's will, he shouldn't have it. And he's become so alienated from his friends that he does not trust anything they have to say.
> 
> Perhaps he'll start listening to reason, in the next chapter... :)


	20. Chapter 20

“Is there anyone who hasn’t completely alienated Ianto, who he’ll listen to?” the Doctor asked.

“What about his sister?” Toshiko asked, from the corner.

They all jumped. “When did you come in?” Jack asked, beckoning her over and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“I followed you when you brought him in here. I was just staying out of the way.” She sniffed. “He’s not going to trust me, either. But Bilis didn’t get to Rhiannon, did he?” She handed her PDA to the Doctor. “I found her address and got the longitude and latitude, if that’s easier for you.”

The Doctor grinned at her. “Brilliant.” He took the PDA, then looked back at Tosh. “Care to help me navigate?” He headed to the console room, Tosh in tow.

“I’ll stay with him,” River smiled at Jack. “You’ll need to speak with his sister.”

Jack stared at Ianto’s back for a long moment before leaving. River tucked the blanket more snugly around Ianto and watched him frowning in his sleep. She adjusted his pain medication until he seemed to ease, then sat and watched over him, hoping his sister could help.

***

“Sosej?”[1]

Ianto frowned. Everything _hurt_. Did he have to wake up? He felt a hand on his arm, gently moving up and down. He groaned, then cracked one eye open. “Rhi?” he whispered. Then he jolted, almost upright, pulling the oxygen mask from his face. “Rhi, how did you get here? You can’t be here! It’s not safe!” He looked around and saw the Doctor, River, Jack, and Toshiko standing some distance away.

“She is perfectly safe, I promise you,” the Doctor smiled. “And we are still parked in her living room.”

Rhiannon had stood when Ianto sat up. She looked at him, and was frightened by what she saw. His skin had only turned this color once before, in the days before the transplant took place. Her brother was dying. He turned and looked at her, and she saw a world of pain in his eyes.

“Rhi,” he reached out and collapsed against her as she wrapped her arms around him. “It hurts,” he whispered.

“I know,” she held him close and kissed his hair as he wept quietly against her. “I know.”

When he calmed, she helped him blow his nose and drink some water.

“Why are you here?” he asked, exhausted.

She put his oxygen mask back on him, before answering. “Someone got into your head and caused you to start rejecting your heart. Your friends thought I might help you reconsider just letting that happen.”

He eyed her closely. “What did they tell you?”

She waved at the group behind him. “The Doctor’s an alien. Technically, so is Jack, who is also immortal, which is how your heart came from him, but he’s still standing over there, threatening to start flirting, again. River is human-plus, whatever that means, and Toshiko is your friend, but the same bastard that came after you made her say awful things to you. She’s sorry, by the way, but she’s afraid you won’t believe her apology. And Jack’s sorry, too. He knows he should have told you that he was James Harper, and I know there’s a lot more to that story, but they’re not saying what.”

“The team,” Ianto muttered, nodding. “They turned on me. I know they were being manipulated, but… it seems like the manipulation was that they were finally saying what they’d always thought, rather than they were saying things that they were tricked into thinking. And that’s so much worse.”

“You’re right, that would be worse, if it were true.” She sat on the table next to him, facing him. “But if this guy was in your head, might he be making you think that?”

Ianto shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m so confused. And alone. And then my place got trashed.”

“I know.” At his surprised look, she added, “I went to find you, that night. Remember Jack told you to call me, the next morning?”

Ianto nodded. It had all gotten a bit muddled.

“What else is bothering you, Sosej? You’re not one to take other people’s words to heart, like this.”

Ianto sighed. The thought had occurred to him that if he died he wouldn’t have to explain this to his sister. Not that he preferred dying to coming out. Well, not really… He sighed. Nothing for it. “I guess I should start by telling you that I’ve been seeing Jack.”

Rhiannon’s eyes widened in surprise. She took a deep breath. “So… You’re… What, bisexual?”

Ianto ignored Jack’s groan, cut off by River’s elbow. “I like who I like. Up until now, it’s been women. But now it’s Jack, as well.” He shook his head. “Not men, really. Just Jack.” His face crumpled. “I did the thing. The thing you told me never to do.”

“You told him, first,” she sighed. She glared at Jack, but noticed he looked as miserable as Ianto did. “Didn’t go to plan, eh?”

Ianto shook his head. “He pretty much dropped me, then and there. Started flirting even more with the one he always liked better, anyway.”

“Well, he’s immortal. I imagine falling in love is scary, for him.” Jack had hung his head, looking ashamed, but at her words, his head snapped up. He hadn’t expected her to understand, much less defend him.

“It’s no picnic for the rest of us, either,” Ianto muttered.

She reached out and took Ianto’s hand. “And then what?”

“Then I found out that he never really cared, at all. That I was just… just his part-time shag,” he sobbed.

“Did he say that?” she asked with some heat. Jack was shaking his head vehemently, looking appalled.

“No,” Ianto shook his head. “But it’s true.

“How can you know that?”

“Because he got stuck in 1941 and fell in love with someone else,” Ianto whispered, feeling the humiliation of it, all over again. “Not even two hours out of my company, and…” He gave a sniff and hardened his expression. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Ianto, he came over to your flat that night, probably to talk to you about it.” At his confused frown, she said, “That’s how I met Jack, and why he knew to tell you to call me, the next morning. We both showed up that night and found you missing from your thoroughly destroyed flat. It’s how he had your mobile – surely you wondered how he had it, to return it to you.”

“I…” he frowned, shaking his head, “I hadn’t thought about it, really.”

Rhiannon sighed. “So let me get this straight. Sorry,” she grinned, “I shouldn’t say that now, should I?” At his glare, she assumed an expression of mock seriousness. “Let me see if I have this right,” she amended cheekily. “Some twat at work knows one of your soft spots is about Jack, and so they poked it. But has Jack spoken with you?”

“Every time he tries, he makes it worse,” Ianto sniffed.

“Oh, well then it must be love,” she chuckled.

“Rhi,” he huffed.

“No, you listen to me. This attack on you was because you are too strong to be fooled, and you needed to be out of the way. The best way to do that was to bring you low. So your team turned on you, one by one. Demeaned you, and what you do, which I’m willing to bet is a hell of a lot more than they realize. Jack was deliberately maneuvered away from you, so you already felt unsteady, and then your relationship got belittled, as well. And then you were isolated even more by having your flat trashed.”

Ianto frowned.

“And you couldn’t call me, because you didn’t want to put me in danger. So then what? You were all alone,” she sighed. “Ianto, how much did you drink, that night?”

“Rhi…”

“You’re nothing like him, Ianto. We both know that. But when you’re brought low, you do what he used to do, to cope. How much?”

“A lot.” He fidgeted. “Bottle of whisky.”

She nodded. He’d done worse.

“And a half-bottle of gin.”

She blinked. “Wow. How were you able to get in to work, the next morning?”

“Needs must, yeah?” He shrugged. “And Torchwood has an alien hangover cure.”

“Of course it does,” she replied drolly. “Still, that can’t possibly have helped you defend yourself, can it?”

He hung his head, shaking it.

“Then they attacked you again, raised a demon, and Jack died killing it.” At his nod, she said, “And the thing you’re _really_ tweaked about is that everyone knew that your heart came from Jack, but they didn’t tell you.”

“Tweaked?” Ianto’s head came up. “You think this was just some little annoyance?”

“Of course not. But they said you understand why it was difficult to find the right time, to tell you.”

“It was something so important, and everyone knew, but me. And I was the one who had a right to know.”

“And bad things happen, when you’re the one kept in the dark,” she said, her words surprising the others. She pulled Ianto into her arms and held him as he wept again. “This is nothing like that,” she whispered. “You know that, right?”

“Feels the same,” he said, leaning back and sniffling.

“I know. But just think it through. It’s not the same thing, at all. Immortality? It’s just the kind of freaky thing that Torchwood would be hiding. Just the kind of thing your team would know about. The one you’re angry about knowing... She’s the one Jack favored over you? The one he turned to, after…”

Ianto didn’t have to answer.

She sighed. “It seems like it’s all the same thing. Everything being influenced and directed so it could inflict the most damage on you. Ianto, you have to see that all of this happened to get at you. That’s just as possible, if not more so, than your team being genuinely out to get you.”

“I guess,” Ianto shrugged, then rubbed his chest as big, fat tears rolled over his oxygen mask. He coughed, then pulled off the mask, blood pouring out of his nose.

The Doctor rushed over as Rhiannon grabbed something to hold to Ianto’s face. He scanned Ianto with the sonic screwdriver, then placed his hands on either side of his head, reading him again.

“Ianto, Manger left behind some sort of… something. I can isolate it and remove it, but I need your permission.”

Ianto nodded his head, which felt like it was splitting open, all of a sudden. When the Doctor was done, the younger man collapsed back onto the bed.

“He’s getting weaker,” the Doctor muttered. “Though hopefully that was the last bit of resistance to getting some help.”

Rhiannon sat next to the bed and leaned towards Ianto, who was now lying on his side. “I know it’s bad, that your defenses are gone, but that means,” she tapped his forehead gently with a forefinger, “that no one can lie to you, right now. How about you give Jack another chance to tell you where things stand?”

Ianto closed his eyes wearily. “I’m just so _tired_ , Rhi.”

“Maybe, but you’re also a lot stronger than you were, that night before the transplant. And you were still fighting, even then. Where’s my angry little brother, raging against the world?” she asked, shocked to be looking for the fury that had always made her afraid for him.

“Wasn’t going to let them win,” he muttered.

“Well, it’s still the same fight, isn’t it?” she smiled. “Technically, you’re here because you’re rejecting a transplanted heart. And you wouldn’t have needed the transplant, if it hadn’t been for those things that took Lisa.”

“You’re far less subtle than Bilis Manger was, you know that?” Ianto gave her a small smile.

“I’ll leave the subtleties to you, Sosej,” she returned his smile. “Will you let Jack help you?”

Ianto looked away from her.

“Do you want to die?” she asked, her voice small.

“I don’t know. I’m still muddled. And tired. And everything _hurts_.” He frowned, then sighed. “Oh, all right.” He reached out to her. “Help me up, will you?”

“What? Why?”

“I want to wash up, a bit. And brush my teeth, if a toothbrush can be spared.”

The others let out a collective sigh of relief. Rhiannon smiled and beckoned River over. “I’ll be right back. I just need a quick word with Jack.”

“Try not to get his mouth or nose,” he grinned, and it was the first bit of hope she felt since entering this strange space and clapping eyes on him.

“Of course not. If this is a _kiss of life_ ,” he rolled his eyes as she used air quotes, “then he needs to be able to breathe. And it wouldn’t be fair to you if he tasted of blood.”

Only River heard their exchange. Smiling, she helped Ianto wash the blood from his face and chest, then held him steady as he brushed his teeth. Rhiannon asked for a private word with Jack and once they were in the corridor, she socked him in the jaw. He landed hard on his arse, looking up at her with a mixture of shock and awe.

“I’m letting you off easy this time, because I know you were all being manipulated. But you’d better treat him right, or else make a clean break of it. I will _not_ tolerate anything in between.” She huffed and turned her back, then turned and faced him, tears in her eyes. “I just had to _persuade_ my baby brother to try to _live_ , because he’s lost the will to. And I know it’s because of this Manger arsehole, but… I’ve never seen him so hurt, Jack.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t deserve him.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact. “He loves you. I’m not going to ask, because it’s none of my business, and you’re not going to be telling me how you feel before you tell him. But I hope you’ll give him a chance, if you think you could love him. I know eternity’s a long time, but he’ll be good to you for a piece of it.”

Jack didn’t look at her, but he nodded.

She reached down and took his hand, hauling him to his feet. “This isn’t about what you deserve, Jack. You have a good man, who loves you. It’s about what he deserves, in return, and whether you can work with that.”

“You’re a good sister,” Jack bumped shoulders with her.

“Nah. I just know a good bit about having a good man I don’t deserve who loves me, anyway.”

Jack paused. “What was that you said, about bad things happening when he’s kept in the dark?”

Rhiannon shot a worried look at the med-bay door. “He was only ten when our mother fell ill. The family thought it best not to tell him – they thought they were protecting him. But one afternoon they were sitting together, just the two of them, and she began to choke. It had become a normal thing, and could be easily alleviated. But he didn't know what to do. The crisis passed, and we had to tell him.”

She wiped away a tear. “Mam died two days later. In Ianto’s mind, I think he’s convinced it was because he didn’t know what to do, that day. He blames himself for what would have taken her, no matter what.”

“Because he didn’t know.”

“Yes. I know that how he’s reacted to everyone knowing but him seems like an overreaction to you lot, but it just stomped down on some really old, really painful memories for him.”

Jack brushed a hand down his face. “It’s just another layer of punishment, isn’t it? Sweet goddess, I fucked up so badly, this time.”

“Jack, you thought you were doing what was best. He’ll come around. And he’ll forgive you.”

“You think so?”

“Might help if you tone down the flirting with the one he’s really tweaked about.”

“He knows I don’t want her,” Jack frowned at the raised eyebrow. “Well, he did know, before everything went to shit.”

“Exactly.” She huffed. “Look, you didn’t know Ianto before. He’s always been reserved. Maybe a tiny bit shy, but never unconfident. Something about the transplant made him unsure of himself. There for a few weeks, he seemed more himself, and I think it was when things were starting out between you two. I’d like to see more of that.”

“Me too,” Jack admitted.

She eyed him closely. “You know, if you Retcon me, he’ll have to come out to me, again. Do you really want that?”

Jack smiled and shook his head. “The way I see it, you’ve already been read in. Which means you’ve been assigned a clearance level that lets you keep your memories. Right Tosh?”

Toshiko stepped out of the shadows. “I’ll be sure the records reflect that, Jack,” she said with a soft smile. She looked from Jack to Rhiannon and back again. “Jack, I think it might be good for Owen and me, and perhaps Gwen, though I’m not certain how much she was actually manipulated….”

“So you agree with Ianto’s assessment?” Jack cut in, curious.

“He was upset.”

“But he had some valid points.”

Her hesitation was enough to show her agreement with what Ianto had said.

“Damn,” he muttered.

“It’s a blind spot, Jack. We all have them. And we’re all better for knowing what and where they are, right?”

Jack nodded. “It might be good for you three…”

“Yes. I think we should go and do an inventory of Ianto’s flat. They can sort through things while I arrange for replacements of everything. Then I’ll arrange to have the place cleared out, scrubbed, repainted, and the new things brought in. What do you think?”

“You’re not going to find some of that furniture anywhere,” Rhiannon chuckled.

“So what do you think? Replace with a similar style, or give him an allowance to replace the stuff, himself?”

“Allowance,” she said. “Particularly for the art. He is very fussy, about certain things. But for his clothes, maybe get swatches, and take them to his tailor, so he can stock up on the fabrics. Even if Ianto wants a different cut of suit, I know he’s already chosen those fabrics because he loves them.”

“Good idea,” Jack turned to Toshiko. “How long to get the flat put back together.”

“Based on what I heard, the place was decimated. Maybe three or four weeks?”

“You’ll have four.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I’m really hoping Ianto will let me help him, now. And if he agrees to it, I’m going to get the Doctor to take us away, to give him a chance to recover. Plus I want him to be in a quiet place without any static, to rebuild his defenses.”

“Static?” Rhiannon frowned.

“Too much has happened here, lately. It will take him twice as long to get his shielding back in place, if we try to do it here.” He nodded. “I’ll get a team from UNIT or from Two to come and cover, while we’re gone.”

“Can’t you be gone for however long you need to be, and come back the next day?” Tosh asked.

“We could, but two things you should know. First, the Doctor’s aim can be a bit rubbish.”

“I heard that!” the Doctor called from the door to the med-bay.

“Jack, I’ll be sure to get you back on whatever date you want to be back,” River called out over the Doctor’s shoulder.

“There is nothing wrong with my aim,” the Doctor huffed.

“Of course not, Sweetie.”

“And second?” Tosh giggled at the banter.

“I think everyone needs some distance. It will give you three a chance to regroup, and it will give you a chance to get Ianto’s flat pulled back together.” He nodded, as though to himself. “Use my reserve fund number three, and spare no expense. Replace whatever, but go top of the line. Okay?”

Tosh smiled and nodded.

Rhiannon looked at Jack. “You should get back in there. Do you need a breath mint?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out one of the Franks special mints she always had on her, for the kids. “Can’t believe I’m giving a bloke a mint so he can snog my baby brother,” she muttered under her breath as Jack took the mint with a smile.

***

[1] Welsh for sausage. Can’t you just see Ianto's big sister calling him that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's Rhi saving the day, being as wonderful here as she is horrible in "Niffler". 
> 
> Next up, our boys finally talk. And perhaps some restorative smoochies.
> 
> Bear with me, though. That part hasn't been written, yet.
> 
> Thanks fore reading! Let me know what you think. :)


	21. Chapter 21

River took the Doctor by the arm and led him to the far corner of the med-bay to give Jack and Ianto some privacy. “He’s getting weaker,” she told Jack quietly, as they passed.

Jack nodded in response and walked to the bed where Ianto was lying on his side, facing the middle. Jack took off his boots, lowered his braces, and pulled off his shirt and tossed it over next to his coat, which he had doffed earlier, before climbing onto the bed, facing him. Ianto did not stir. He looked grey and haggard, his body working for each breath. Jack reached out and ran a hand through Ianto’s hair, causing the younger man to jerk back with a panicked gasp, eyes wide and fearful.

Jack’s heart broke a little, seeing this reaction to a loving touch. He realized that no one had reached out to Ianto in weeks, unless it had been to attack him. He withdrew his hand quickly as Ianto tried to calm his breathing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Jack whispered. He glanced at the monitor behind Ianto. It showed his vitals were weak and thready, despite the spike in heart rate caused by the startle. His blood pressure and body temperature were dropping, all signs that they didn’t have much time.

“No, I’m sorry,” Ianto replied, his voice ragged and weary.

“Can I please hold your hand?” Jack asked. At Ianto’s confused look, he shrugged. “I’d like to touch you, to hold you, but I don’t want to take liberties. If you hold my hand, that’s the only way I’ll touch you, unless or until you give permission for more.”

Ianto stared at him, wide-eyed, for a moment, as though trying to process Jack’s request. After a long beat, he tentatively reached out a shaking hand and placed it on the bed between them. With a smile, Jack slowly reached out and took Ianto’s ice-cold hand, then sighed at the touch.

“Goddess, I’ve missed you,” he breathed, closing his eyes for a moment and feeling like he was home for the first time in weeks.

Ianto gasped in a breath. Jack’s touch was always such a complex thing. His skin was warm, his touch was comforting, and he was _home_ for Ianto, in a way that had never been safe or loving, before. His heart didn’t know whether to calm at the contact or speed up as the truth of what Jack had just said sank in. He closed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed.

“Will you let me kiss you?” Jack asked. He was not comfortable waiting.

Ianto shrank away from him, slightly. “Jack, I…” he sniffed. “I don’t know if can… if I _want_ to…” He drew in a breath, “…to keep living this life…” he gulped another shallow breath, “…especially if it will be for a long, long time.”

Jack nodded. “I definitely understand that,” he muttered sadly. He was tempted to give Ianto the mercy that he himself would forever be denied, and leave the younger man to go in peace. But then he recognized with a jolt that _that_ thought was not really his own. That was the thought that had released John Ellis from this life, but it wasn’t truly Jack’s.

Because Jack wasn’t one to give up, no matter how weary he might be. It wasn’t merely because he _had_ to keep going; more than that, it was that everything always changes. As bad as things seem right now, they’ll get better. Or as good as things might be in any given moment, make the most of them, because they won’t last, either.

It rattled him to consider the fact that had he been himself, he might have been able to help John Ellis choose a new life; but more than that, he hated the idea that he had, for even a moment, considered allowing Ianto to give up.

“Hey,” he said, being careful to refrain from reaching out to touch Ianto, again. He squeezed the younger man’s hand, unsure whether he was trying to give or take comfort from intensifying the contact. “What if that’s more of the manipulation?”

Ianto frowned. He couldn’t tell what was real and what was Bilis’ smoke and mirrors, anymore. Perhaps it was a good thing that this was beginning to annoy him. He closed his eyes.

_So tired._

“How about I tell you some things,” Jack suggested, and Ianto struggled to open his eyes again. “You can test out your lie detecting skills – I’ll tell you a few truths, and a few lies, and you can tell me which is which. That way, you’ll know you can trust my sincerity.”

Ianto gave a small huff. So it had come to this. Playing two truths and a lie with your beloved, so you might consider letting him come close enough to either help you or finish you off…

He sighed and gave a nod.

“Okay. I was born in the year 5047,” Jack started.

Ianto’s eyes flew wide. “Fifty-first century pheromones,” he breathed.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to let that slip,” Jack grinned. “No regrets, though.”

Ianto nodded. “Truth.”

Jack smiled. “I was born right here on Earth.”

Ianto felt an uncomfortable sort of itch in the back of his skull. “Lie,” he muttered, his eyes wide at the revelation.

Jack grinned. “Yep.”

“So where are you from?”

Jack looked at him quizzically. “You wouldn’t know it – it’s a backwater place, even as far as the future of human colonization is concerned.”

Ianto shrugged. “Don’t care. I want to know about your home, Jack.”

Jack gave a start as he realized… “Cardiff is my home, Ianto.” At the younger man’s surprise, he added. “I’ve been here a very long time,” he hesitated. “I’ll tell you the whole story when we have more time. But I landed here in 1869.”

“Truth.” Ianto’s heart ached at the thought of Jack’s burden – living for so long, alone, destined to be left behind by everyone he’d ever love. He sniffed. “Tell me about your home planet, then. Is it beautiful?”

Jack looked surprised. “Why would you assume it’s beautiful?”

“Because it produced you,” Ianto replied, then looked down, clearly unnerved at having spoken so boldly, despite everything. Jack decided that even when his complexion was a deathly grey, Ianto’s blushes were still lovely.

Jack gave Ianto’s hand another squeeze. “It is beautiful, in its own way. It’s called the Boeshane Peninsula. A barren, lonely little spit of land on one of Earth’s colony worlds, trillions of lightyears from here. Our community lived right on the edge of the peninsula.” Jack’s eyes took on a faraway look. “The weather was almost always the same. Hot. And dry, despite the sea that surrounded us.”

“And then you landed in Cardiff,” Ianto replied, then smiled. “No wonder you wear that coat all the time.”

Jack chuckled. “Over a hundred and thirty years, and I’m still not used to the chill.”

“Will you go back?”

Jack’s smile faded. “No reason to, really. There’s nothing there for me, anymore.” At Ianto’s frown, he added, “There was an invasion...” He found he could not elaborate.

This time, Ianto squeezed his hand.

“As much as I’ve hurt you,” Jack marveled, “you still want to comfort me.”

Ianto shrugged. “Tell me something else?”

“I was married, once,” Jack said. “In the early part of the twentieth century.”

Ianto looked at Jack, trying to decipher his expression. “What happened?”

“She died in childbirth,” Jack whispered. “Along with the baby.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Jack nodded.

“And the one who ran away?” Ianto asked, feeling emboldened by Jack’s revelations.

Jack sighed. “Lucia. We never married. She worked for Torchwood. Had Melissa in 1975. She left Torchwood two years later and disappeared. Told me not to look for them…” he stopped speaking again.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Ianto squeezed his hand again, letting him know he needn’t continue.

“I used to fall in love like other people change their clothes,” Jack said, remembering. “I guess I still think of myself, that way. I know the stories I tell all imply that. But I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been in love, since landing here,” he confessed. “Sure, I’ve _loved_ a lot of people, and shagged even more, but that real, deep connection that makes you want to hold on, and never let go…” he shook his head. “Four, maybe five times.”

Ianto nodded, not looking at Jack. He knew he wasn’t one of those. There was the wife, and Lucia, and Estelle Cole, and the historical Jack Harkness. That was four, right there. He shook his head, trying to clear it of hurtful thoughts. “Tell me a lie, then,” he demanded.

“I want Gwen.”

There was that itch, again, only stronger, now. Ianto looked at Jack, who held his gaze, smiling. “I only flirted with her because I was running from you. Not that I wouldn’t normally have run from you, a little bit…”

“You keep saying that. What do you mean by ‘a little bit’?”

“I would probably have gotten really quiet and withdrawn for a couple of days. Stood on a lot of rooftops. Brooded. But I would have come around.” Jack huffed. “What I would _not_ have normally done was flirt with someone else, just to hurt, alienate, and isolate you.”

No itch. Ianto nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry I did that, Ianto.”

“Wasn’t your fault though, was it?” Ianto shrugged, still hurt, but having no place to put that pain, since no one had been themselves. He dragged in a breath of air.

“You still got hurt, and that’s not fair. You’re allowed to be angry with me, Ianto, even if it wasn’t my fault, entirely. It was still me, hurting you.”

“I’m too tired to be angry, Jack.”

“Then how about I tell you another lie?” Jack eyed Ianto, then gripped his hand. “You’re just a tea boy.”

Ianto twitched at the crazy-making scrabble in his head. Then he realized. _Big lie_. A smile twitched his lips.

“And here’s one more,” Jack returned his smile and clasped Ianto’s hand between both of his. “You’re just my part-time shag.”

Ianto almost jerked off the table at the harsh scratching that felt like his brain had turned into a rabid badger and was making a break for it. It took a moment for the sensation to subside.

“ _Ow_.”

Jack chuckled, then sighed. “Ianto, this is about so much more than you telling me you love me. You’re my friend. The best friend I’ve had, in a long time. I enjoy being around you. Our conversations, your wit. You make me laugh. And it makes me feel good, that you enjoy my company, as well.” He sniffed. “It’s only now, as the fog has begun to lift, that I’ve begun to realize how much I’ve missed you, these past few weeks.”

Ianto frowned. “You’ve missed my friendship?” Truth. He nodded. “I’ve missed that, too,” he whispered.

Jack grinned. “But that’s not all. Holy goddess, but the chemistry between us is amazing.”

Ianto gave him a flat look. “You’ve missed the sex.”

“Haven’t you?”

“Fair point.”

Jack grinned. “I wanted to talk to you about Jack Harkness. As soon as it happened.”

Ianto tucked his chin to his chest and shrugged. “You fell in love. It happens.” _Just not with me_ , he thought bitterly.

“I fell for an ideal,” Jack admitted. “But between the emotional manipulation and the fact that he was going to die the next day and the bombs dropping…” he huffed. “There was something about that time. Everything was so uncertain, so everything was so much more intense. And I got sucked right into it. I don’t know if it was love, or just a longing to…” he shook his head.

“To what?” Ianto asked, his curiosity overriding his hurt feelings.

“In retrospect, I can’t tell if I wanted him, or wanted to _be_ him,” Jack confessed. “He was just so… _worthy_.”

Ianto frowned. “Worthy?”

“He was just a stand-up guy. Earnest and forthright. Honorable and upright.” He sighed. “Handsome and completely repressed. _That’s_ something about that time that I hated. He was all of those things, and yet there was this whole part of who he was that it would have been illegal for him to express. Judged by the times as deviant and immoral.” He frowned. “That’s another reason I know I wasn’t in my right mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“To dance with a man in public, in 1941… to _kiss_ a man… I outed him, and then left. I can only hope that his cause of death was being shot down by enemy planes.”

“You mean…”

“It isn’t outside the realm of possibility that there was no enemy attack. His own men could very well have shot him down, for being who he was. What he was. Under normal circumstances, I would never have outed a man, in that environment.”

“Is there no way to know, for certain?”

“My hope is that the story reported was true. If they’d taken things into their own hands, odds are they wouldn’t have come back to base and made a hero of him.”

“So you met your namesake and discovered he was sort of… ideal. And you came home feeling like you could never fill his shoes, live up to that ideal. Like you don’t deserve to have his name.”

Jack nodded.

“You’re moron, Sir.”

“What?” Jack looked at Ianto, startled.

“You’re a hero, Jack. Messy and reluctant, yes. But a defender of this planet. He’d be proud that his name lives on in such a man as you. I know I would be.”

Jack sniffed, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “I didn’t love him, Ianto. It was an infatuation, intensified by the danger of us being stuck there and the fact that there was no way to save him.”

“Jack, I told you. I know I’m not going to be the only object in your orbit,” Ianto’s heart twisted painfully, and he gasped for breath. “It’s okay.”

“But what if I want you to be? The only object, that is?”

“What?”

“You love me enough to offer me a level of freedom that causes you pain, and that isn’t fair. I care about you, Ianto, and I can’t stand the thought of hurting you. What if I want to give commitment to monogamy a try?”

“You do know what monogamy means, don’t you?”

Jack frowned. “Of course I do.”

“Then you are, in fact, aware that it’s not ‘a handily rhyming synonym for monotony’?”

Jack groaned. Apparently, Ianto had overheard Jack making that joke to Colonel Mace when the UNIT commander had told him he was planning to wed. “It was a _joke_.”

“Funny.” Apparently Ianto’s biting sarcasm was not on _its_ deathbed.

“Well, I didn’t say it was a good joke,” Jack grumbled.

Ianto snorted a laugh, but it turned into a painful, wracking cough.

Jack glanced up at the monitor, watching Ianto’s vitals getting weaker. Once Ianto settled back down with a grimace of pain, he said, “Ianto, don’t you know by now that I’m mostly just talk?”

“That’s not entirely true,” Ianto defended.

“I think you know that I don’t go out on the pull as much as everyone assumes. Hardly at all, really. I flirt because it’s fun. But it’s just that,” he sighed. “I love sex. But when it’s shallow and meaningless, it gets old. I haven’t had a one night stand in almost a year.”

 _Truth_. Ianto’s eyebrows made a break for his hairline.

Jack grinned. “So technically, up until 1941, you and I have been monogamous.” He frowned at his next thought. “Wait. Haven’t we?”

It was Ianto’s turn to chuckle. “Of course we have.”

Jack smiled, then gave Ianto an earnest look. It was disconcerting to the younger man, to see Jack without his masks for such a prolonged period. “Ianto, your trust is one of the most important things in my life, and if you’ll allow me, I’d like to re-earn it.”

Ianto sucked in his breath as another truth hit home. “I’m scared, Jack,” he whispered. “I… Another week like this one would destroy me.”

Jack looked regretful. “I’m scared too,” he confided. “I’m afraid of hurting you again. And I’m absolutely terrified of losing you.” He sniffed. “But I can’t promise to never hurt you again, any more than you could promise that, to me. If we’re going to be together, it’s inevitable. And that’s okay. It’s normal. But what we can do is work on having this ability to know the truth from one another come more naturally, without harming our defenses.”

Ianto sucked in another breath. “Will you kiss me, Jack?”

Jack’s heart soared, and he smiled. He released Ianto’s hand, which immediately reached out to wrap around him, grasping his shoulder blade. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Ianto’s, a soft, tentative kiss. He felt that familiar spark between them, though it was a sad little imitation of their normal fire. He began giving Ianto a series of short, soft kisses, allowing for the younger man’s labored breathing.

With Ianto’s next inhale, Jack breathed into him, being less forceful this time. Behind closed eyes, he felt more than saw the golden glow. Almost immediately, Ianto’s kiss became stronger, his grasp on Jack pulling them closer together.

Ianto let out a small sound of protest as Jack pulled back and looked at the monitor. Just the one kiss seemed to have stabilized the younger man’s vitals. They had grown more steady, but were still far too weak. Jack leaned down for another kiss. He gathered more energy around him, and it was as natural as taking his next breath, to deepen the kiss as he breathed more vortex into Ianto.

Ianto shifted and thrust the hand he had been lying on into Jack’s hair. Jack wrapped his arm around Ianto’s waist and pulled him closer as he alternated between thoroughly reacquainting his tongue with Ianto’s mouth and breathing the vortex into his lover. As they both drew back for breath, Jack blinked, feeling dizzy.

“Jack,” Ianto whispered as the glow subsided. He leaned in for a kiss so tender it made Jack’s heart ache.

“I love you,” Jack breathed against Ianto’s lips, unable to hold the words inside as he became overwhelmed by the force of the emotion welling up inside him. He felt Ianto go completely still in his arms, and he drew back enough to look into wide, startled eyes.

“Truth.” The surprise in Ianto’s eyes melted into everything he had been holding back, up until now. Yes, he’d said the words, but he had not allowed Jack to truly _see_ what it meant to be loved by Ianto Jones, mind and body, heart and soul.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Sorry for the delay. And fair warning - I have to wrap Christmas gifts tomorrow night, and am traveling to crazy family Christmas land Tuesday and Wednesday, so I may not post again before Thursday or Friday. :/
> 
> There was almost another cliff in this chapter, but it would have made the chapter too long, so I reconsidered. :D
> 
> Let me know what you think of the truths and lies and smoochies… :)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	22. Chapter 22

“Truth.” Ianto reached up and kissed Jack with a passion that took the immortal’s breath away.

This time when they parted, they were both breathing heavily, gasping for breath. Ianto buried his face in Jack’s neck as Jack glanced up at the monitor and frowned. “Doctor?”

The Doctor stepped forward and looked at the monitor, then scanned Ianto with his sonic screwdriver. “That’s strange,” he muttered.

“What?” Jack asked.

“Ianto’s heart has repaired itself,” the Doctor replied.

“What do you mean?” Ianto asked, sitting up slowly.

“I mean that the damage from everything that’s happened has been repaired.”

“Well, isn’t that what you were hoping for?” Ianto frowned, confused. He drew in a deep breath, noting that breathing was easier, but he still felt off.

“We were expecting the vortex to stabilize you enough that your heart could heal, as it normally would. This is… this is something else,” the Doctor grabbed Ianto’s head and stared into his eyes, then sniffed his hair. “I don’t understand.”

“Jack, why did he just sniff me?” Ianto asked. Because out of everything that was happening, _that_ was what freaked him out.

“He can be a little unconventional,” Jack ran a hand through Ianto’s hair, then frowned. He held the back of his hand to Ianto’s cheek. “You’re burning up, all of a sudden.”

“I feel,” Ianto suddenly lost track of which way was up. Jack caught him before he could fall over, and lowered him to the bed.

“Doctor?”

The Doctor looked at Jack, his old eyes full of pain and regret. “Something’s gone wrong, Jack. His body can’t sustain the heart, now.”

“What?”

“When he received the transplant, his body accepted the heart, because it no longer had active access to the vortex. And when you… infused the heart, it was while Ianto was within your psychic field. It gave his body time to adapt. But this time… He didn’t have that protection. So his heart is primed with vortex energy, but there’s no way for his body to adapt.”

“What are you saying?” Jack asked, beginning to panic.

“He’s dying, Jack. And there’s nothing I can do.”

“You have to do something!” Jack shouted.

“Jack, I…”

“No! You have to help him! You said that the vortex would stabilize him.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t realize. I thought the heart was enough of a buffer. I didn’t realize that it was your psychic shielding that helped him acclimate, before.”

River had come around the table and at his request, helped Ianto to sit up. He wrapped his arms around Jack. “It’s all right,” he rocked the older man, who had started to hyperventilate. “Breathe with me, Love.”

“You can’t leave me,” Jack pleaded. “Not now.” He began weeping against Ianto’s bare chest. “Not now.”

“If it were up to me, and you’d have me, I’d stay with you the rest of your life, Jack,” Ianto whispered, his own tears wetting Jack’s hair.

Jack’s breath caught and he sat back to look at Ianto, his eyes wide. “You would?”

Ianto looked at him steadily. “Long life or no, it’d be worth it, to spend it with you.”

“Truth,” Jack breathed out, his heart breaking.

Just then, the TARDIS’ cloister bell began tolling as the ship itself began to shudder and quake.

“Doctor?” River looked up, trying to discern what was happening.

“Something’s wrong. We need to get out!” the Doctor exclaimed.

“Get the others. I’ll bring Ianto,” Jack said, helping his lover to stand when he made it clear that he was not going to let Jack carry him, ‘like some bloody damsel in distress’. Jack grabbed his shirt and quickly put it on Ianto, then wrapped his greatcoat around the younger man’s shoulders before helping him to walk out of the med-bay.

River had already hustled Rhiannon and Toshiko out of the TARDIS. The Doctor was standing by the door as Jack and Ianto entered the control room. Ianto was leaning heavily on Jack, and they were moving slowly. “Hurry, Jack!” the Doctor called out, trying to be heard over the continued tolling of the bell.

As Jack and Ianto made their way across the control room, something lurched, and they both went to their knees. The Doctor made to re-enter the TARDIS, but something tilted and he stumbled backwards through the door, which then slammed shut.

“No, no, no, no, no!” the Doctor shouted, jumping back to the door and banging on it. “What are you doing?”

“What’s happening?” Rhiannon asked, her eyes wide.

“I think the ship is sentient,” Tosh told her, watching as the Doctor shouted at the police box.

“Oh. That’s… she’s alive?” Rhiannon smiled. “That makes so much more sense.”

“You’re very like your brother, you know,” Tosh returned her smile. “Not everyone would have made the leap from sentient to alive, as well as ‘she’.”

“Does she boot you out often, then?” Rhiannon asked the Doctor, humor glinting in her eyes.

“She’s up to something,” the Doctor muttered.

“Doctor, what if this is when it happens?” River asked, realization dawning.

“All of his potential timelines are ending, River.”

“What does that mean?” Rhiannon broke in.

River turned to her, placing a hand over hers. “I’m sorry, but it means that Ianto was still dying, despite Jack’s efforts.” Tosh put an arm around Rhiannon as she let out a small sob. River turned back to the Doctor. “We know the Bad Wolf can play with timelines, though. What if she was tinkering with your perception, to get us out of the way?”

The Doctor was sonicking the TARDIS. He stopped and turned to her. “Neither of them would do that.” He frowned. “His timeline was definitely still ending.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell Jack?” River asked.

“I told him of his reality, as it currently stands. If the timelines that we know of end here, well…” he ran a hand through his hair. “No point in getting his hopes up, is there?” He sighed. “But I looked at his timeline, just before things went mad. Perhaps it had to come to that before they could step in.”

“Excuse me, but who are ‘they’, exactly?” Rhiannon asked.

The Doctor ran a hand along the door of the TARDIS and muttered, “I hope you know what you’re doing,” before turning back to the others. Rhiannon and Toshiko sat on the sofa, and River sat in Johnny’s chair. “There was a young woman who traveled with me for a while. Her name was Rose. She’s the one who brought Jack into the TARDIS, like some kind of stray.”

“Sweetie,” River warned, catching the frown on Tosh’s face.

“No, no, I don’t mean it in a bad way. He saved London, even though he was the one who almost blew it up, in the first place. But he was going to die, and this was before he was immortal, so I pretended to let Rose convince me to save him, even though he annoyed me, just a bit. But I was _really_ cranky, during that regeneration, so…” he trailed off, lost in a memory.

“So you travelled with Rose and Jack,” River prompted.

“Yes. We had some grand adventures. But then we ran into trouble,” the Doctor hesitated. “Daleks. I sent Rose home and Jack made a stand against them while I tried to construct a weapon…” He sighed. “Jack was killed, but then Rose returned,” he shook his head and heaved another sigh. “Best laid plans…

“She looked into the heart of the TARDIS. Took the vortex into her mind. Became something else, entirely. The Bad Wolf. She came back for us. Destroyed the Daleks. Brought Jack back to life.” He hesitated before continuing. “But here’s the thing. She really didn’t know what she was doing, so she brought him back, forever.”

“So he’s truly… _immortal_?” Tosh asked. “I mean, we knew he couldn’t stay dead, but that’s not necessarily the same thing as _forever_. Poor Jack!” she exclaimed, tears in her eyes.

The Doctor nodded, appreciating her quick apprehension of Jack’s current predicament. “But humans were not designed to carry the energy of the vortex. It was burning her up, so I took it from her, and sent it back into the TARDIS. I always thought that Bad Wolf was the unique hybridization of Rose’s consciousness and the TARDIS’ vortex heart.”

“But Ianto said that Bad Wolf was there, dancing around in his head,” River said, looking excitedly at the Doctor.

“So I think when I took the vortex from Rose, it took an imprint of her, with it. So the consciousness of Bad Wolf is still in the TARDIS, as a separate being.”

“And if the TARDIS has taught her how to wield the energy, then perhaps she can put things right,” River said hopefully.

“But wouldn’t they need a surrogate of some sort?” the Doctor asked, almost to himself as he paced within the small space of the living room not already taken up by the TARDIS.

“But that assumes that the entity requires a body, to carry out its plan,” Tosh said, looking thoughtful.

The Doctor and River both turned abruptly to her.

Tosh blushed. “Well, if it’s composed entirely of energy, why would it _need_ a body?”

River looked at the Doctor. “Sato… Archangel?”

The Doctor grinned at River and nodded, then turned to Tosh. “You are absolutely correct, Toshiko Sato. Oh, that is brilliant! That was a huge assumption to make. Most likely, whatever it needs to do, it can do so without a go-between, so to speak.”

“Did you notice when the bell began to toll?” River asked, becoming excited.

“Jack was panicking,” the Doctor frowned, trying to remember.

“It was right after Ianto told Jack that he would stay with him for the rest of Jack’s life, if he could.”

The Doctor went very still. “That was consent,” he muttered. He looked at River, a smile forming. “You might be right.” He heaved a sigh. “Oh, that is good news!”

“What?” Rhiannon asked. When the Doctor’s expression turned cagey, she stood up and wagged a finger under his chin. “Oh, no you don’t. You do _not_ get to tell me that my baby brother is dying in a bloody police box that we can’t get into, and then say you have good news and not share it!”

“You should tell them,” River said, and he gave her a cross look. “If we’re right, it won’t matter. And if we’re wrong, we’re going to need all the help we can get, to comfort Jack and keep him from… You do remember that time he only thought he’d lost Ianto…”

“Wait. If you know them in the future, how can Ianto be actually dying, now?” Tosh asked.

“Some things are fixed, but most of time is in flux,” the Doctor explained. “It would take something big to change Ianto’s timeline, but I think what just happened qualifies, don’t you?”

Tosh dropped her gaze and nodded, once more reminded of her part in what had transpired.

“Hey,” River reached out. “Stop that, right now. This isn’t your fault.”

“But I played a part, didn’t I?” Tosh asked, her eyes bright with tears. “I made a point of telling Ianto that Jack fell for his namesake when we were trapped in 1941. Just to hurt him.”

“What did it feel like?” Rhiannon asked. At Tosh’s confused look, she frowned, trying to figure out how to frame her question. “Were you in some corner of your mind, watching yourself say things to Ianto that you would never even think? Or is it as he feared, and you’ve always thought those things, but were just too polite to say them?”

Tosh frowned. “I can’t claim that I wasn’t cruel to Ianto, and I won’t claim that I’m not capable of such cruelty. But when I get that way, it comes from a place of fear and anger. Jack and I were stuck in 1941. Owen wanted to open the rift, to get us back. Ianto tried to stop him. Shot him, even.”

“He was at Canary Wharf,” River nodded. “He knows what can come of tinkering in ignorance.”

“And I understand that,” Tosh said quickly. “Really, I do. But Owen opened the rift anyway, and we got back, and I found out that Ianto had shot Owen, and had essentially tried to keep us stuck back there.” She sighed. “I understand why he did it, and I realize the sacrifice he was making, particularly not knowing about Jack’s condition. But it just made me _so_ _angry_.”

“And the anger was disproportional – completely irrational, considering you understood his reasoning,” the Doctor pointed out.

“So this Manger bastard was manipulating emotions,” Rhiannon surmised. “Did he plant the words, as well?”

“Why do you ask?” Tosh asked, frowning.

“It’s just that…” Rhiannon frowned. “If I know my brother, none of you knew about him and Jack. I mean, how did you know to go after him, in that specific way?”

Tosh frowned. “Jack has flirted with Ianto, from the day he first arrived. And Ianto has flirted right back – perfect deflections, always. Nothing to discourage Jack, but still shutting him down…” She gave a small smile. “It’s actually a lot of fun, watching them spar. They’re well matched. I knew they’d become good friends, and there’s always been this spark between them – I just assumed it was because they have such good chemistry. They seemed to be getting along really well, but they never gave anything away.”

“So you didn’t suspect?” River asked, smiling. She’d always had a great appreciation for their sparring, as well. It reminded her of the banter she enjoyed so much with the Doctor.

“Not really,” Tosh frowned. “I guess we all assumed Jack was incapable of discretion, but now I see he’s been really respectful of Ianto’s reserve. I couldn’t even tell you when they began… seeing one another.”

“Well then,” Rhiannon smiled. “You really can’t blame yourself, can you? How could you have meant to do something, when you didn’t even realize? Manger made you angry, so you wouldn’t question what you were doing, or why.”

“I…” Tosh frowned, then looked at Rhiannon and sighed. “Thank you. I appreciate that, but it was still me, hurting my friend. I remember it, and I remember… _relishing_ it.”

“But did you?” Rhiannon asked as the Doctor and River looked on, smiling. Tosh frowned again. “If it was any other circumstance, and you hurt a friend in anger, and your anger was completely justified, would you relish that?”

“I’d probably lash out, yes,” Toshiko said carefully, then a small smile whispered across her face. “But I wouldn’t enjoy it, no.”

“Well that’s settled, then,” the Doctor said enthusiastically, clapping his hands. He whirled back towards the TARDIS and put his ear against the door, stroking a hand down the side. “Is this what we think it is?” he asked. He smiled and after a pause, he added, “How long will this take?” He quickly leaned away, looking cross. “Well there’s no need to be rude!” he exclaimed.

River chuckled. “They seem to be attempting… something. It may take a couple of hours,” she explained to the others.

“Well, then. I suppose you’re staying to dinner,” Rhiannon smiled. Then she turned back to the Doctor. “Just what are they attempting, then?” She smirked when the Doctor’s face fell. “Thought I’d lost track of that, didn’t you?”

River chuckled as the Doctor muttered, “I’d rather hoped…” Then he heaved a great sigh and began to explain.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Some angst, some humor, some letting Toshiko off the hook. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Yes, Ianto is dying _again_ … or is it still? Sorry about that. Had to be done, so the next bit will work.
> 
> Speaking of the next bit... A few hundred words of the next chapter are down, and it's Johnny Davies and the Doctor attempting to interact. Not sure anyone else will like it, but it's making me laugh.
> 
> Enjoy!


End file.
